


This Time Between Us

by LunarHermit



Series: Everything Stays (Everything Changes) [6]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Angst, Bonds, Byleth Needs All The Hugs, Deviates From Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family, Family Fluff, Feels, Female My Unit | Byleth, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Fluff, Some Humor, Spoilers For All Routes & DLC, Time Travel, Violence, dragon instincts, everybody needs a hug, headcanons galore, might end up being slight spoilers in the comments, though I think of them more as supporting explanations for what's actually going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarHermit/pseuds/LunarHermit
Summary: When the era of peace a united Fódlan was thriving in is suddenly shattered by fire and death, the land’s devastated queen makes one last attempt to set things right.Navigating the rivers of time in an attempt to regain all that she has lost, Byleth is granted one last chance to save her world from the monsters plotting in the dark.One last chance to stop the horrors she witnessed from occurring……and save the ones she loves.
Relationships: Flayn & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Everyone, My Unit | Byleth & Seteth, My Unit | Byleth/Rhea
Series: Everything Stays (Everything Changes) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563757
Comments: 47
Kudos: 105





	1. A Dark and Twisted Flame

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me early on in my planning of Time Crackers. In direct contrast to TC, which is pure crack and humor, this story is a more serious take on time travel. While there will be moments of humor here and there, the aim of this story is to be more along the lines of hurt/comfort, and will eventually be very liberal with fluff.
> 
> I will also be including my personal headcanons, some of which are featured in my other oneshots - which can be thought of as prequels to this story.
> 
> Despite what the summary and prologue may suggest, don't expect this story to jump into tackling the big issues of the threats yet to come, or for big complicated fight scenes. While I may eventually get to those things, that is not the focus of this story.
> 
> This is, at its core, a romance between Byleth/Rhea. The secondary focus is family, and Byleth's bonds with those she loves.

**+-+**

**Enlightened Year 243**

**Red Wolf Moon**

**Garreg Mach**

**+-+**

Ash and smoke swirled chaotically through the air, the red-stained sky a violent reflection of the hellish landscape below. Fires raged across the shattered city, once peaceful streets twisted and ravaged by the flames of war. Buildings crumbled as the blaze consumed all in its path, the screams of pain and fear fading in frequency as those who could not flee fast enough swiftly met a violent end.

Garreg Mach, seat of power for both the United Kingdom of Fódlan and the Church of Seiros, lay in ruins.

The distraught queen of the war-torn land dropped to her knees upon the impromptu battlefield, the bloody and still-warm Crest Stone of Seiros clutched desperately to her chest with one hand, the other holding onto the pommel of her sword, the Sword of the Creator, in an attempt to keep herself from completely collapsing. Her breaths came in harsh gasps, the thick smoke pervading the city compounding with what she dimly recognized as a punctured lung making her attempts to get enough air as painful as they were futile. Her battered and beaten body bled from countless wounds, the most serious of which stretched right above her heart and seeped a continuous stream of blood interspersed with shimmering green. 

Through the haze of smoke and flame Byleth could just barely make out the shadowy form of Nemesis approaching slowly, his sole remaining arm holding his twisted version of her sword loosely at his side, its dark glow seemingly consuming the light around it.

She tried desperately to Pulse back in time but, as with her previous attempts, the sudden pain in her chest was debilitating - and it was all she could do to gasp for air that just would not come. She could feel, with a clarity born from memories not her own, the Crest Stone in her own chest slowly cracking - the green light escaping her wound flaring brighter and more consistently with each failed attempt to turn back time.

Still, despite the pain and certainty of death, Byleth could do nothing more than try again. 

She collapsed, sword clattering to the ground beside her. Limbs barely responding in her weakened state, it took what little energy she had left to drag the sword closer and clutch both it and Seiros’ Stone to her weeping chest mere moments before booted feet would have crushed them.

“And with this, the taint of the Fell Star, the False Goddess, will finally be struck from this world.” Nemesis’ voice was cold, near emotionless, though his red eyes glowed with unquenchable rage. He reversed his grip on his sword and, with the one hand he had left, prepared to jab it downwards.

“I will end you.” Byleth’s voice was low, the cracked words barely audible above the roar of the surrounding flames.

Nemesis paused.

“For my people.” Byleth coughed and wheezed, fresh blood splattering across the large boots before her. She weakly glared up into darkly amused eyes, her hand reflexively clutching Seiros’ Stone tighter to her. “For my _wife_. For the hard-won peace that you have destroyed, and the countless lives you have taken. I will _end_ you, Nemesis.”

“No. Oh, no,” Nemesis chuckled darkly, his voice booming and mad. His grip tightened on his sword, the leather of his glove creaking at the shear strength he put behind the motion. “It is _I_ who will end you, pathetic _goddess_. And when I have slaughtered you like I did Seiros, like the utter _vermin_ you are, I will take both Crest Stones and my collection will be complete. Never again will your kind be a blight upon this land, and at last the Agarthans will know victory.”

“I _win_.” Nemesis’ eyes flashed coldly, triumphantly, as he raised his sword for one final blow.

Byleth gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut. Gathering every last ounce of determination and strength she had left, she threw absolutely everything she had into Pulsing. Pushing through the searing pain, she screamed, power flooding her body as the Sword and Stone clutched to her chest shone in the ensuing blast. 

The last thing Byleth was aware of was a brilliant green flash of light and the sound of something within her shattering before she was utterly consumed by darkness.

**+-+**

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Harpstring Moon**

**Garreg Mach**

**+-+**

Rhea awoke with a pained gasp, hand rising instantly to press desperately against her chest. It was only after feeling the frantic beating of her heart did her shoulders slump in relief, even as the phantom sensation of her Crest Stone being forcefully torn from her chest caused her to shudder. Mind and emotions in turmoil, she gazed unseeingly around her dark chambers for a moment before almost violently throwing off her covers.

Free from the suddenly too-restricting material, Rhea stood up and, after taking a few steadying breaths, donned the cloak and light slippers already waiting by the door. Leaving her chambers, she quietly traversed the silent hall until she came upon the set of doors she sought. Exiting onto the Star Terrace, she took a few more steps before she stopped abruptly and closed her eyes. A series of deep, calming inhales and exhales had her furiously beating heart finally settle down into a semblance of normality.

“I had wondered if I would find you here again tonight.”

Rhea twitched slightly at the sudden words, though she managed to breathe through her surprise. Opening her eyes, she glanced at the man leaning against the far ledge, his green eyes studying her. She inclined her head in his direction.

“Seteth,” Rhea acknowledged quietly. After a moment of hesitation, she joined him. Hands gripping the smoothed stone ledge, she turned her gaze to look down upon the rest of Garreg Mach, eyes unerringly drawn to every hint of fire, the image of streets consumed in flame still fresh in her mind. She feigned ignorance. “You are up rather late.”

“Or rather early, one might argue. I could say the same of you,” Seteth stated almost mildly, deciding to humor her. “Trouble sleeping?”

Rhea’s eyes flashed to the left, a shrill scream causing her hands to curl into the stone, her grip only relaxing when an embarrassed laugh quickly followed, the sound of frantic apologies carried upon the wind. “…Of a sort. I suddenly found myself in need of some fresh air.”

Silence descended between them, and for a moment Rhea was hopeful that Seteth would let the matter drop. His frustrated sigh as he decided to stop humoring her had her closing her eyes in resignation.

“This is the fourth such night,” Seteth frowned in visible concern. “It is… concerning, to say the least.”

“I know,” Rhea glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“That your dreams have left you so shaken four nights in a row-”

“I _know_ ,” Rhea sighed wearily. “I am aware of how unusual it is, Seteth.”

“It is truly the same dream each night?” Seteth asked, brows furrowed.

“…More or less,” Rhea admitted after a moment’s hesitation. She leaned on the ledge, gaze far away as she thought back to the events of the past few nights. “They start with small flashes – people, places – some I recognize, some I do not but feel as if I _should_. Sound trickles in slowly. Still-life pictures come alive until an entire scene plays out. They differ, in length and content, but the last scene…”

Rhea breathed, the flesh of her arms prickling despite the warmth of her cloak. The sound of her true name being screamed echoed in her mind, the _familiar_ voice full of horrified despair. She swallowed thickly. “The last scene is always the same.”

“That you dream of battle is not so surprising. Even the appearance of Nemesis…” Seteth trailed off with a frown. He crossed his arms, one finger tapping his chin slowly in thought. “You are certain they are not memories?”

“No.” Rhea paused. Hesitated. Shook her head. “No. They do not feel like simple dreams, but the contents… impossible.”

“You do not think…” Seteth’s finger stilled, a troubled look sliding onto his face. “An omen? Could it be Her…”

Rhea bit her lip, eyes drawn upwards to the starry sky. “As much as I would love a sign from Mother, I can only hope that it is not the case. For if it is…”

Rhea shook her head. “Let us speak of something else. How has our new Captain been faring with his return to duties?”

Seteth stared at Rhea for a long moment before sighing and acquiescing to her desire to let the matter drop, if only for the moment. “As you well know, it has been a little over a month since Jeralt resumed his prior duties as Captain of the Knights of Seiros. By all reports he is settling in nicely and has quickly gained the respect and trust of those serving under him. There have been no incidents with the Knights since his appointment.”

“That is good news,” Rhea nodded distractedly, a pensive look still upon her face. 

“If I may, you seemed rather pleased to hear that Alois had convinced the former Knight Captain to return.” Seteth commented idly.

“Jeralt was a dear friend, as well as an excellent knight. I was sad to hear that he had left after the fire twenty years ago.” Rhea admitted easily, finger tapping absently against the stone ledge.

“And yet it was news of his daughter that caused the larger emotional reaction. You even insisted that she, an unknown quantity, become a professor despite her lack of qualifications. Since then you have asked after her almost daily, and yet despite this vested interest you seem to have in the young woman, you have worn a pensive frown each time she has come up during conversation in the past week.” Seteth pointed out shrewdly, finally giving in to the curiosity that had been building within him. “Just what has Jeralt’s daughter done to vex you so?”

Rhea was silent for a long moment as she mulled over the same issue that had been plaguing her mind for days. She knew why she _should_ be interested in the girl, despite the pain having hope could bring. And she would be lying if she denied that her mind hadn’t immediately jumped to the possibility that she might be Sitri’s lost daughter…

But those _dreams_ …

They were, quite simply, impossible.

And yet, they felt so _real_.

“…I cannot say it is anything more than a feeling.” Rhea murmured finally as her gaze drifted from star to star. “A feeling that I have lost something I greatly coveted… and yet gained something infinitely precious in the process.”

A gust of wind followed her murmured words, catching on her green hair and blowing the long strands until they twisted whimsically in the air. Pulling the cloak tighter around her body, Rhea blinked and cleared her throat before turning around to go back inside. Hand pausing on the door, she glanced back at Seteth. “There are a few hours yet until dawn. We should both attempt to get some more rest.”

Not waiting for Seteth’s ensuing nod, she immediately slipped back inside, the door closing quietly behind her.

**+-+**


	2. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth awakens.

**+-+**

**Unknown**

**+-+**

Byleth sat up abruptly as awareness returned to her in a rush. One hand rose to put pressure on her wounded chest, fingers sliding through the hot blood, while the other dropped the sword still clenched in her hand and reached for Seiros’ Crest Stone. Not instantly finding what she was looking for, Byleth’s breath hitched in mounting panic as she all but threw herself to her knees, slick fingers immediately abandoning her wound in favor of joining her frantic search.

“Calm yourself.” Sothis’ sharp tone broke through Byleth’s alarm, the younger woman’s hands freezing as the elder goddess faded into view. Despite the vast darkness that encased them, their eyes locked with little trouble, Byleth’s bright and feverish gaze causing Sothis’ frown to deepen. “We have precious little time left, and none whatsoever to pander to your panic.”

“S-Seiros’ Stone-” Byleth rasped only to be impatiently cut off.

“Is in the waking world, as it should be. _Think!_ Look at your surroundings!” Sothis snapped as she floated closer. Her eyes flicked briefly downwards, a complicated series of emotions shining within the orbs too swiftly for Byleth to decipher, before returning to pierce Byleth’s own with a renewed intensity. Her voice was harsh with uncontrolled urgency. “You _know_ you cannot bring anything your soul does not recognize as a part of itself with you when you appear here. You do not just have yourself to think about- we do not have _time_ for this!”

Byleth reared back in surprise at both the harsh tone and sudden proximity of Sothis’ scowling face. Blinking rapidly, Byleth’s gaze flitted around, her mind only now registering the dark void that currently surrounded them – and how oppressive it felt. 

Swallowing thickly, Byleth’s tense muscles relaxed as her shoulders slowly slumped in defeat. She made eye contact with Sothis once more, her eyes still bright with pain but noticeably clearer than before, her voice heavy with sorrow. “…Is this it, then? Nemesis won?”

“ _Is this it?_ ” Sothis’ hackles rose at the utter defeat that dripped from Byleth’s words, her scowl deepening.

“The better question is whether you are truly who you appear to be.” Sothis noted the spark of confusion her words caused in green eyes yet carried on anyhow, voice cold. “You _appear_ to be Byleth Eisner, Queen of the United Kingdom of Fódlan – however _that_ Byleth would not sit here uselessly stewing in self-indulgent pity. _That_ Byleth is a deity in her own right. _That_ Byleth would let nothing stop her from reaching her goals.”

Byleth’s hand curled into a fist as Sothis’ harsh words pierced through the overpowering cloud of emotions she had been drowning in, the confusion and self-pity fading into the background as righteous determination slowly took hold. Her slumped shoulders stiffened as her gaze sharpened in defiance.

Sothis’ harsh tone mellowed as her words visibly took effect. Her eyes flicked downwards once more, this time lingering slightly longer before rising. Her once cold tone turned soft and fond. “ _That_ Byleth I am _proud_ to call both friend and _daughter_.”

Byleth let those last words suffuse her and temporarily patch the ache within before she took a deep breath and staggered to her feet, green eyes determined and voice firm. “How do I fix this?”

Sothis let out a silent breath of relief even as she acutely felt the void closing in. Her little spiel had taken up time they did not have, but it had been necessary. If they had any chance of fixing things, Byleth’s mind and heart had to be focused. 

She spoke quickly.

“You very nearly did die, but Nemesis’ final blow did not reach you. Our Crest Stone, damaged as it was, could not handle the power you were attempting to draw forth. It shattered.” Both Sothis and Byleth winced at the remembered pain. “And yet, miraculously, at the very same moment it shattered you succeeded in turning back time.”

“What does that mean?” Byleth frowned.

“It means that we are in a limbo of sorts – dead, yet alive. It means that we have a little more flexibility than usual, certain constants of the universe no longer holding sway over us as they should.” Sothis stared seriously into Byleth’s determined eyes. “It means _we can fix this_ , but we have to do it _now_ before it is too late.”

A ripple passed through the void, and despite the unending darkness surrounding them, the place felt noticeably smaller - more confined. And it was shrinking steadily.

“If there is any chance of us avoiding this outcome, we must go back as far as we can and hope it is far enough. Only…” Sothis took a deep breath and shook her head. “This is uncharted territory, for the both of us. I do not know what exactly will happen if we are successful - but know that we _cannot_ falter. If we are to succeed, our hearts and minds must once more be as one. We must put everything towards our goal; if we fail now, there will be no second chances.”

The void quaked around them, causing both women to clutch their chests in unison and gasp in pain.

“Now!” Sothis wheezed urgently. “We must do it _now_!”

Byleth nodded and grabbed Sothis’ hands, head falling to press their foreheads together firmly. “I’m ready.”

Sothis squeezed Byleth’s hands moments before small motes of green light began to slowly waft off of their joined forms. It took one beat for the motes to multiply exponentially. Two beats, and the motes began to swirl around them, forming a twister of bright green. Three beats, and both of their forms dissolved into light before being seamlessly added to the blinding vortex.

On what would have been the fourth beat the void collapsed upon itself, not a trace of the green light left to be seen.

**+-+**

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Harpstring Moon**

**Garreg Mach**

**+-+**

_  
**-+-**   
_

_A bloodied man with ragged green hair howled in grief as a young woman with similar features fell to the ground before him. Dropping numbly to his knees, he gathered her up in his arms, depleted magic attempting to heal her even as her breaths grew more and more shallow. Green eyes cracked open and hazily looked up into his devastated face, a faint smile quirking the edges of her lips even as blood stained them red._

_“Father…” Her voice was faint and raspy, a mere whisper all but lost on the battlefield. “Father…”_

_“Flayn, don’t – don’t speak, I’m going to heal you. You are going to be fine. Just fine.” Seteth’s voice shook as he attempted the spell once more, only for the light of his magic to fizzle out._

_“I love you… Father…” Her eyes slipped closed one final time, her chest stilling._

_Seteth’s uncontrollable wails of anguish echoed across the battlefield as he collapsed atop his unmoving daughter, his voice swiftly turning raw yet showing no signs of stopping._

_His grief was silenced moments later when a sword speared him through the back, the wicked blade unerringly burrowing deeply within his heart._

_**-+-** _

Byleth’s eyes flickered restlessly beneath closed lids, face twisted in pain as her hands unconsciously clawed at the sheets beneath her. Her pulse quickened as images and emotions continued to assault her, her chest tightening even as she began gasping for breath. She was vaguely aware of someone trying to speak to her, though all she could discern was that the voice was male.

Cichol?

No. 

No, it couldn’t be Cichol.

Cichol was…

But who else…?

“…eth! …up …yleth! _Byleth_!” 

Byleth snapped awake with a gasp and shot up in bed so fast she would have tilted over if not for the large steadying hands on her shoulders. One hand rising to hold her swimming head, she closed her eyes and breathed for a moment before cracking them open and looking at the figure kneeling on the floor beside her.

“Dad…?” She rasped in abject confusion.

“Goddess, kid, I think you just shaved the last few years of my life off,” Jeralt swore under his breath as he stared into feverishly bright eyes. Eyes that last he had seen were a cobalt blue - as was her hair - but both of which were now a luminous light green. 

Jeralt’s heart hammered in his chest, while his expression came to a rest somewhere between the picture of fatherly concern and staring at a ghost.

His daughter had never looked so much like her mother as she did in that moment, and he couldn’t help but think back to the last memory he had of his wife. Of Sitri’s green eyes wide and bright with pain as she smiled at him bravely, her equally green hair wet and limp with sweat as the midwife ushered him out of the room.

“Don’t…” Byleth snapped through gasped breaths. “Don’t joke… about that…”

“Okay, okay. Easy there By,” Jeralt snapped back to the present and tried to soothe his suddenly irate daughter, though he was internally taken aback at the emotion present in her voice. Just what had happened to her in the week since they’d seen each other? “Just breathe. Calm down - and breathe.”

Byleth ignored her father – if he even _was_ her father and not simply a fever dream – and attempted to get out of bed.

“Hey, woah there,” Jeralt easily pressed her back down into the bed despite her weak struggling attempts to throw him off. “Easy there, Byleth. It was just a dream.”

“If only,” Byleth growled weakly, her eyes sliding away from her father’s worried face to flit swiftly across the room. She stilled suddenly.

It wasn’t the familiar quarters she shared with Seiros within Garreg Mach that met her wandering eyes.

No.

But her surroundings were achingly familiar all the same.

If this were still a dream…

“Where are we?” Byleth asked abruptly. Her feverish gaze sharpening as green eyes bored into concerned brown with an unexpected intensity. 

“We – we’re in your rooms at Garreg Mach,” Jeralt’s concerned frown grew, one of his hands resting briefly against the sweat-soaked skin of her forehead. “Have you been like this all night? You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,” Byleth stated dismissively, one of her hands reaching up to grab a lock of hair. It was green, as it should be, but if they were in Garreg Mach, and her father was there…

Byleth pinched her arm, sharp nails digging into the soft skin - but it wasn’t enough. She had to be _absolutely_ certain. She winced as the sting grew sharper as her grip kept tightening, tiny pinpricks of blood flowing from under her nails.

“ _Stop that_ – Byleth, what is going on-,” Jeralt grasped both of her hands, stopping her from injuring herself any further. “Talk to me, kid.”

Physical pain…

And she didn’t wake up.

Then there was a chance that this was…

Byleth stared at Jeralt silently for a long moment before opening her mouth. What came out wasn’t an explanation, however, but another question.

“What year is it?”

“By-,”

“This is _important_ ,” Byleth stressed, cutting off who she was starting to believe was actually her father. In the flesh. _Alive_. 

And that meant that everyone else was… 

That _she_ was…

She had to _know_.

“What year is it, what month –? _Please_.” Byleth’s voice cracked with emotion as she pleaded. “I _need_ to know.”

Jeralt was stunned, but after another anguished ‘please’ he managed to get his voice to work once more. “Year 1180, Harpstring Moon. I was worried when you didn’t show up for breakfast-,”

Byleth’s eyes unfocused as she thought back to her time as a fresh-faced professor. She vaguely remembered having weekly meetings with her father in the earlier months until their respective jobs had begun taking up more and more of their time.

“You’re sick and need to rest-,” Jeralt continued unimpeded, already mentally mapping the fastest route to get her to Manuela – or would it be better to bring the woman to his daughter?

Byleth’s eyes refocused on her father’s face.

Her _father_.

She had always been fond of her father, even when her emotions were muted to the point just above complete apathy. It was only as he lay dying on the ground, his blood seeping out of him at a rapid pace, did her slowly deepening emotional awareness give her the clarity to peg the slight heaviness in her chest for what it was.

And what it was, was plain and simple.

It was _love_.

That feeling had paled in comparison to the floodgates of sorrow her merge with Sothis had subjected her to after his death, however; her grief eclipsing anything she had ever felt to that point and leaving her catatonic for days.

She had thought that she had experienced the very depths of her grief and rage after his death, that she could truly feel no worse.

She had been so very, very wrong.

But now.

Now she was able to feel freely - and here he was so very much alive.

They were _all alive_.

Her emotions were still too chaotic and far too close to the surface after her recent experiences, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from overflowing with tears.

“I love you,” Byleth blurted out suddenly, hand scrubbing weakly at her stinging eyes. “I just – I need you to know that I love you.”

Because by the time the words had formed in her throat the first time, it had been too late.

“I love you too, Byleth,” Jeralt’s hands twitched uselessly at his sides, his broad form shifting uncertainly as he debated whether he should chance leaving his daughter alone long enough to get the healer – _any_ healer – or scoop her up into his arms and protect her from whatever was afflicting her through shear willpower alone. “But you’re talking like you’re dying, kid, and it’s really starting to scare me.”

“No, not me,” Byleth took a shuddering breath as she tried to calm down. She couldn’t afford to fall apart just yet, at least not while there were so many things to do. So many plans to make. “Not now, at least.”

“Not ever. I forbid it.” Jeralt scowled sternly. “Do you hear me, Byleth? You are not allowed to die.”

The shadow of a bittersweet smile crept across Byleth’s face; similar words echoed through her mind, having been spoken to her once before by the one who held her heart. She had broken her promise the first time around, though admittedly it was through no fault of her own. But this was a second chance to get things right, and she was _not_ going to squander it.

Not with the image of Seiros’s still-beating heart being torn from her chest as she watched on in helpless horror, the sound of her wife’s dying gasp echoing in her ears like a thunderclap as she arrived on the scene mere moments too late.

“I hear you,” Byleth murmured as she absently trailed her fingers through her hair, attempting to comb the damp mess into a semblance of normality. She hadn’t worn her hair so short in _years_ … It would take forever to grow out again.

Jeralt’s eyes followed the movement with uncertainty. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your hair and eyes have…” He trailed off, the words getting stuck in his throat.

Byleth stared at her worried father, a false sense of calm finally settling within her as she accepted that this was real; that she and Sothis had actually turned back the clock over two centuries when before she could barely manage a few hours without the risk of being laid out for days.

There _was_ the matter of said Goddess’ silence, but from her current appearance she could assume that they were already merged. 

But that presented another issue altogether. She _was_ different, and not just in appearance. Her father wasn’t stupid – far from it – and she could already tell that her behaviour since waking had thrown him off kilter.

There was also the small matter of the rest of the monastery’s occupants to worry about.

So how much should she tell him? _Them_?

How much was she _willing_ to?

And yet, with how things turned out the first time, could she really afford to keep them in the dark?

No.

At least, not _all_ of them.

Sei- Rhe- _She_ needed to know what was coming, as did Seteth and Flayn. 

Her father… She had to tell her father something, and she dearly wanted to believe she could trust him with the knowledge that she carried.

But… not yet.

There were too many variables in play.

What she needed was time. Time to mourn the world and lives that she had lost, and time to plan how to stop those very lives from being lost once again.

It was ironic, then, that despite her power over time, she still seemed to be constantly running out of it.

She felt her tumultuous mess of emotions gnawing at her veneer of calm, and swiftly came to a decision. Her green orbs focused once more on her father.

“Father, I… I need a favor.”

Jeralt studied his daughter for a long moment, before slowly nodding, his voice gruff but ringing with sincerity. “You can ask me anything.”

**+-+**


	3. Listen To My Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth speaks until, eventually, others listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I've re-written it so many times that I've lost count. It's an important chapter, and sets the stage for later chapters, it's just not entirely how I pictured it going. But this is what I ended up with, so...
> 
> Also, while the basis for this story is the Silver Snow route, I've decided to include pieces from the others, as well as steal a little something from Awakening...

**+-+**

**Imperial Year 1180**

**Harpstring Moon**

**Garreg Mach**

**+-+**

It hadn’t been enough time.

It had been three days and nights since she’d awoken centuries in the past, to a world yet untouched by the horrors that would come. 

For three days and nights she had sequestered herself within her old room in the dormitories; three days and nights she had mourned and raged over what she had lost. 

Three days and nights she had listened at her door as ghosts spoke their concerns and well-wishes to her through the heavy wood, remaining silent until long after they had left.

It had been three days and nights, and yet it hadn’t been nearly enough time.

There was never enough time.

She was not ready to face them, not with the images of their deaths still freshly seared upon her mind – the choked cries, the stench of blood and fire and steel, the feeling of their very _life-force_ slipping through her fingers as she pleaded with a goddess just as powerless as she…

And yet there she was, standing alone in one of the small unused meeting rooms on the restricted third floor of the monastery, waiting with a mounting sense of dread as her father went to fetch those she had decided needed to be in attendance.

The door creaked open and Byleth’s hand instinctively reached to her side only to come up empty, her fingers instead curling into a fist.

“…ere now tell us what was so important that you needed the three of us to-,” Seteth’s annoyed words cut off as he looked up, his eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring as he immediately situated himself in front of his daughter and Rhea. Eyes never leaving the cloaked figure standing silently at the other end of the small room, he demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”

Byleth breathed slowly, her paper-thin veneer of calm having already taken a hit that left her silently reeling. She wasn’t sure what hurt more at the moment; the naked distrust dripping from Seteth’s every action, or the caution and barely veiled fear visible in the eyes peeking at her from behind her father’s tense form.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Sei- Rhe- _The Archbishop_. Not yet.

Instead she turned to her father, the man eyeing her silently yet expectantly. “I know I asked you this earlier, but I feel the need to ask again. Are you absolutely certain that you are willing to keep what is spoken of in this room a secret - to take it to your grave if need be?”

She steadfastly ignored the small, achingly familiar gasp at her words.

“Is that-?” Seteth muttered under his breath and inhaled once more, only for his confusion to grow.

“Out of curiosity, what would happen if I said no?” Jeralt questioned after a moment.

“I would ask that you leave the room.” Byleth blinked slowly, voice calm and brutally honest, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “And then I would tell you a convincing lie.”

Jeralt spoke gruffly into the brief silence that followed her statement. “I’m staying.”

Jeralt closed the door behind him, before moving to lean against it with arms crossed, a silent promise that nobody was leaving or entering until Byleth had said her piece.

“Just what is the meaning of-,” Seteth began, only to be cut off.

“Peace, Seteth,” Rhea spoke softly, eyes never straying from the cloaked figure, an increasingly familiar wail echoing through her mind. “I believe that our host has something they wish to say. Don’t you, d- …Professor?”

Byleth’s words died in her throat with an inaudible whine as she swallowed thickly, that soft voice absolutely shattering what barriers she had left around her emotions with its mere presence. All she could do was tilt her cloaked head in a tight nod before turning abruptly in an attempt to gather the pieces of her shattered armor once more into a mask of calm.

She was not ready to face them - but _especially_ not her. Not when her once-dead wife was so close physically, yet for the world of emotions separating them may as well be a different person altogether.

She wasn’t aware of how long exactly it took for her to gather herself, but she could practically feel Seteth reaching his breaking point, his instincts no doubt at the fore while his daughter was in the room.

“I… My story is long. There is so much to cover - I’m,” Byleth finally broke the silence, though she kept her back to her observers. “I’m not entirely certain where to begin.”

Flayn put a hand on her father’s arm, her usually bright voice piping up uncertainly, “I find that the beginning is usually the best place to start a story.”

“The beginning…” Byleth hummed thoughtfully, eyes unfocused in thought. Perhaps… Perhaps if she did treat this as a simple story, at least in her delivery, she could distance herself enough from the memories that she wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

But what _was_ the beginning to one who regularly swam the rivers of time?

“I suppose… If I started at the beginning, our story would begin long ago… Unless…” Byleth sighed, hand reaching for her sword only to come up empty again. She felt naked without the Sword of the Creator’s soothing presence at her side, but at this point in time the fearsome weapon was still entombed. “But first a suggestion – and a foreword.”

She couldn’t look at the Archbishop, and if she were a stronger person she would have done her the kindness of speaking to her alone – but she could do this at least. Hopefully it would help soften at least one of the emotional blows she was about to receive; allowing her to cling to hope when there truly was none in this instance was something that Byleth was unwilling to tolerate, knowing that the eventual pain would be that much sharper the longer she waited.

Byleth finally turned around yet nevertheless kept her gaze averted, no longer having the strength to look any of them in the eye. She gestured at the table in the center of the room, and the multitude of chairs surrounding it. “This will be long, and at some points hard to hear. You may want to sit down.”

Rhea slowly walked forward and lowered herself into the chair directly across from where Byleth stood, Flayn following after a beat. 

Seteth moved to hover beside Flayn, one hand on the chair protectively. “If this is your idea of some sort of prank...”

“I truly wish I could say it was so,” Byleth’s voice cracked with honesty, and the aura of apprehension blanketing the room increased twofold in response.

“I’m good here.” Jeralt called from his position at the door. “Floor’s all yours, kid; I think we’re all ready for some answers.” 

“There is one thing I must make clear before I start,” Byleth cleared her throat, deliberated for another moment, then decided there was no easy way to say it and so went again for blunt honesty. “I am not Sothis.”

She took a moment to study their expressions at her abrupt statement; Jeralt and Flayn showed signs of confusion, one more blatantly than the other, though Seteth’s wary distrust seemed unchanged. 

…He was going to make it hard for her to say what she needed to, wasn’t he?

She still did not look at the Archbishop.

“I fail to see how that fact is supposed to come as a surprise, let alone be important enough to whatever it is you want to say to require its necessity as a preface,” Seteth spoke up irately.

“It is important, and once I say what I must, you too will see why.” Annoyance almost seeped into Byleth’s tone, though she managed to keep it level, if only just. She had not even begun and already her control was threatening to break once more, and once the floodgates were opened, she was unsure if she would be able to stop herself.

There would be no softening of blows then. Her anguish, unleashed, was simply too strong.

“If the story is so long, why not give us the abridged version,” Seteth proposed suddenly. 

“That would be unadvisable,” Byleth replied, a slight warning in her voice for him to drop the matter. “Taken out of context-,”

“Then simply lead with the most pressing points and we can ask for clarification should a matter remain unclear-,” Seteth continued dismissively.

Byleth ground her teeth, real warning now lacing her words. “You really don’t know just what you’re asking-,”

“Perhaps it was different as a mercenary, but here at Garreg Mach we have duties to attend to and have no time to-,”

Byleth’s thinly held together composure snapped, and a growl echoed throughout the room, silencing everyone. The heightened instincts of the Nabateans in attendance immediately recognized the threat for what it was, and their sudden defensiveness was only rivalled by their confusion that it had come from the human before them.

Fine.

_Fine._

She had tried to figure out how to explain things gently. She had spent hours thinking about how she could get the gravity of what was to come across, and yet still cause the least amount of emotional damage to those she considered family - even at the possible detriment to her own feelings.

“In less than a year, the Adrestian Empire will attack the church and its supporters, and Fódlan will be plunged into all-out war.” Byleth’s words were loud and clipped, her tone cold. “It will devolve into a four-way conflict and last a little over five years. Countless lives will be lost, and by the end Fódlan will be forever changed.”

“But that pales in comparison to the threat that the Agarthans pose,” Byleth took advantage of the shocked silence. “Those-Who-Slither-In-The-Dark have not been idle, and none of us will survive what they may have already begun putting into motion.”

“And just who are you to claim knowledge of the future?” Seteth regained his voice first. His tone was level, though there was a new tenseness to his form that had not been there previously. “This all seems rather suspect, and oddly specific. Why should we believe anything you say?”

With the way things were playing out this time around, there was never going to be a good time for her to reveal her change in status. As such, that was as good an opening as any.

“I am Byleth Eisner. Time-traveler,” Before anyone could voice their disbelief, Byleth finally pulled off her hood, the luminous green hair and eyes she had been concealing drawing shocked gasps from three-quarters of the room. 

“Brother, she-,” Flayn’s shocked gaze took in the professor’s obvious changes, only peripherally aware of the claims Byleth was making. Her voice was an urgent whisper as she tugged on Seteth's sleeve. “She looks like _us_.”

“How- How can this,” Seteth blinked uncomprehendingly. “I- I see that, Flayn. But it’s not possible. One does not simply _become_ like us.”

“They do when they are the successor to Sothis’ power.” Byleth stated bluntly. The time for beating around the bush had long-since passed.

That snapped Seteth out of his shock and once more into denial.

“ _Preposterous-_ ,”

Byleth ignored Seteth’s ranting, finally unable to resist surreptitiously glancing at Rhea’s reaction to her revelations. She had expected the older woman to be disbelieving, or perhaps distraught and devastated; she _had_ just made it very clear that she was not Sothis, and so Rhea had just learned that her plans of resurrecting her mother had once again failed. What she wasn’t expecting was for Rhea’s expression to so closely match her own.

Rhea, face pale, was staring at her as if she were a ghost.

Byleth immediately looked away in confusion, and instead of trying to decipher that unexpected reaction tuned back in to Seteth’s continued words of disbelief.

“Look, I understand that what I’m claiming beggars belief, but what other evidence do you require before you’ll at least give my words the benefit of the doubt?” Byleth sighed in sudden exhaustion as she stared at the man who at one time was closer than a brother to her. “Should I start spilling secrets? I’ve so far only exposed future knowledge, but if it will ease your mind I can start dipping into _your_ past as well, Cichol.”

Flayn’s eyes widened, a hand raising to cover her mouth.

Seteth sputtered.

“I don’t know how else to stress just how dangerous a threat we are facing-,” Byleth muttered as she rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. 

“ _Nemesis_ ,” Rhea breathed suddenly, skin paling. She clenched her shaking hands in her lap, her mind remembering the horrors that kept invading her dreams in a new light.

A strangled note of surprise escaped Byleth’s throat as her eyes rose sharply, connecting with Rhea’s for the first time since her death. “How do you-,”

“Nemesis and the threat he posed is long dead-,” Seteth interrupted, incredulously, eyes shifting immediately from staring in disbelief at Byleth to staring in disbelief at Rhea. “Rhea, you of all people can’t honestly believe-,”

“Seteth.” Rhea spoke up, a strange note in her voice. She looked at him, her gaze heavy with meaning. “An omen, you said.”

Seteth’s face shifted through a gamut of emotions before settling on something altogether too haggard. He dropped into the chair next to Flayn, a hand rising to cup his mouth for a long moment as he finally began to suspend his disbelief. “I- I did say that, yes.”

“How do you know that?” Byleth spoke up again, voice raising, her gaze piercing into Rhea with intensity. “You shouldn’t– You didn’t last time– How do you _know_?”

“…Brother?” Flayn asked uncertainly. “Do you know something about what the Professor is claiming?”

Rhea and Seteth shared a look before he sighed.

“The Archbishop has been having these, _dreams_ , the past few nights - and the contents were disturbing enough for her to share them with me,” Seteth admitted, thinking back to certain details with a small shudder. Disturbing was perhaps an understatement.

“Dreams.” Byleth stated flatly, though her eyes blinked rapidly in surprise. “How- no, that’s not important right now. What dreams, exactly.”

Rhea was silent for a moment, internally deliberating before coming to a decision. Her expression of forced calm wavered in remembrance as she spoke. “They vary to begin with, but all end the same; fire, monsters who do not fall when struck, _Nemesis_ , and death. So much death.”

Byleth closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, attempting to push back the too-fresh memories and remain in the present. 

It was finally time to get to the heart of the matter.

“We,” Byleth’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “We called them Risen. Somehow after resurrecting _Nemesis_ ,” His name came out in a cold hiss. “They gave him the power to resurrect our fallen to bolster their own numbers. They had the faces of our loved ones, but none of the thought or emotions; an army of unfeeling puppets who could continue their slaughter even after receiving a mortal wound.”

She began to pace restlessly, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. “Fódlan was thriving, united in an era of peace. We thought we had already ended the threat the Agarthans posed, but they fooled us, slithering around just out of notice until it was too late. The attack took everybody by surprise. Explosive weapons fell from the sky, each _one_ packed with enough unstable magic to utterly wipe out a small village. In one fell swoop we were cut off from any and all sources of aid, and Fódlan was beset by chaos.”

Byleth stopped pacing, her arms raising up to hug herself as if in an attempt to physically ward off the memories. She stared unseeingly down at the floor, voice draining of any and all emotion. “Nemesis personally led the attack on Garreg Mach, wielding a newly forged Relic weapon bearing the Crest Stones of Noa and Timotheos. One by one those I loved fell around me.”

Byleth's level voice finally cracked. “…I watched, helpless, as he tore the still beating heart from my wife’s chest.”

Shocked silence deafened the room as she rapidly blinked back tears, having to clear her throat twice before she could continue.

“I used the last of my strength to tear the bastard’s arm off at the shoulder just before he could crush it in front of me,” Byleth snarled, fury suddenly eclipsing the sorrow emanating from her voice as her eyes narrowed to slits. “But she was gone – everyone was gone – and I was at my limit, afflicted with a mortal wound myself.”

Byleth, a faint rumbling growl escaping her throat, rubbed at the phantom pain in her chest as she attempted to once more bring her rage under control.

“And that is when you traveled back through the rivers of time.” Rhea stated with soft certainty.

Byleth’s rage cooled immediately – reflexively - as she turned to gaze at the woman who unknowingly held her heart.

“…Yes. Though how…” Byleth trailed off in confusion once more, before a thought struck her, causing her to blink rapidly. “Unless…”

Sothis had stated that only what Byleth’s soul viewed as part of her would travel with her.

She wasn’t certain just what criteria her soul used to determine what made the cut, but the rest of her unanimously agreed that Seiros _was_ part of her. They were linked through an unbreakable bond that transcended even time and death itself. Even now, her draconic instincts and not-inconsiderable magic keened at the separation from her mate, and it took more willpower than she thought she had not to throw herself into Rhea’s arms and refuse to leave ever again. 

The fact that _this_ Rhea hadn’t bonded with her made no difference to the instincts churning within; Nabateans were, by nature, beings of feelings first and logic second. The bond was there – at least on her end – and that was apparently enough.

“You- you have a theory as to why Rhea has this knowledge?” Flayn spoke up tremulously, hoping for something to take her mind off of the gruesome picture of the future Byleth’s words had painted in her mind.

Byleth very clearly remembered her last moments, and the fact that she had curled protectively around Seiros’ heart, reflexively pressing the precious Stone as close to her own as she could. 

“I _did_ have her Crest Stone clutched to my chest when I managed to Pulse back in time…” Byleth muttered distractedly. “In _theory_ , it could have-,”

Byleth’s eyes suddenly widened at the small choked sob that echoed in the room, her head jerking upwards as she realized what she had just said. She felt immediate remorse at her thoughtless delivery as she saw Flayn move to bury her face in Seteth’s shoulder, the barely audible hitches in her breath only detectable due to her enhanced hearing. The older man held his daughter close, an expression of pain and resigned belief warring across his face.

Rhea’s expression remained the same calm acceptance of before, and Byleth could tell that it wasn’t simply a mask.

Byleth wasn’t sure how to react to that. Rhea wasn’t responding how she had thought she would, and it left Byleth feeling confused and discomfited, even though she was supposed to be the one with all of the answers.

When the silence stretched on long enough to make it obvious that Byleth was done speaking for the moment, Jeralt finally spoke up. “Well, I’m going to be honest; I feel like I’m missing out on some key pieces of information that everyone else is privy to, and I have _many_ questions about my daughter apparently being a time-traveler who fought in two wars.”

Byleth gave a small start, her gaze reluctantly shifting from Rhea to stare at her father. He had been so quiet, and she was so unused to him being _alive_ that she had honestly forgotten about his presence in the wake of everyone else’s reactions to her revelations.

“But I’m a simple man, and I’d like to think that I have my priorities straight,” Jeralt continued seriously. “So, before anything to do with the future, I’d like to focus on the _now_ and know why my daughter developed a fever one night and woke up with such a drastic change in appearance the next.”

Byleth’s jaw worked, though no sound escaped. She glanced at the others; Seteth’s stare was scrutinizing, Flayn had turned her head just enough that one watery yet questioning green orb was pointed her way, and Rhea’s suddenly extremely interested stare pierced her to the very core. Yet all three remained silent, waiting patiently for Byleth’s answer.

One thing Byleth had never dreamed she’d have to do, was having to explain to her father that she was no longer human.

“That is… a complicated matter,” Byleth hedged haltingly.

“I think we can all agree that we have nowhere better to be at the moment,” Jeralt’s response brooked no argument, not that any was forthcoming.

It seemed she had finally garnered their undivided attention.

Again, Byleth reached for a sword that wasn’t there, and again she came up empty. She resolved to speak to Rhea about reacquiring the weapon in question – that is, when she could bring herself to talk to the woman again after this.

Byleth sighed in resignation, though truthfully the subject change was a welcome reprieve no matter how uncomfortable it made her to have to spell things out for her father. And it was for her father; by now the other three had no doubt realized her change in race, even if they were unsure as to how it happened.

“In the first timeline, this change only happened a few months from now, and only partially,” Byleth started to explain finally, reluctantly. “Sothis and I were trapped in a dark void with no way out. It would take the power of a god to escape, but Sothis had no physical body… I did.”

“So, you used the goddess’ power to escape this trap,” Jeralt’s brow rose in question.

“Yes… Though it would be more accurate at this point to call it _our_ power,” Byleth admitted after a moment of chewing on her lip in deliberation. “She didn’t explain everything – I think she knew I would have put up more of a fight if she did – but the end result was that we… merged.”

“I am not Sothis,” Byleth reiterated suddenly into the silent room. “I am most _definitely_ still Byleth, just… I’m also a little _more_ than what I was before.”

Seteth cleared his throat, voice cautious though not immediately dismissive as it had been earlier. “You stated it was a partial change?”

“At the time, yes,” Byleth nodded. “She imbued me with her power. My abilities, magical and otherwise, grew exponentially - though they couldn’t be contained in my mortal form without first enacting some changes. The visible ones were the eyes and hair you see now.”

“So, you got more power and your color scheme changed as a result? Is that what you’re saying?” Jeralt asked. “Is there anything else?”

Byleth guiltily thought about ending the explanation there and opened her mouth to do so, only to be interrupted.

“If it was a partial change _then_ ,” Flayn sniffed, voice quiet. “What else has changed since?”

Byleth’s shoulders slumped at the poorly veiled hope dripping from Flayn’s voice. She remembered a quietly whispered conversation about a century from now, the both of them snuggled up under a single blanket as they camped out beneath the stars, their impromptu fishing trip having run late. She remembered the shorter green-haired girl softly admitting how grateful she was that Byleth was no longer human, that it would have torn her apart to have to watch the one she called sister grow old and die as their friends had.

“The rest happened at the start of the war a few months after. I was injured in the battle and… _slept_ , for some time.” Byleth slowly pushed her hair back behind one ear, pointedly drawing attention to another obvious change. “When I woke up, the balance of the changes had already taken place.” 

Jeralt took in the pointed ear and muted gasps, and asked gruffly, “Meaning what exactly?”

Byleth puffed out a sigh before staring her father in the eye, voice flat. “Meaning I’m no longer human.”

**+-+**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I first started playing the game, I thought Seteth was kind of an ass.
> 
> I mean, he had good reasons for acting the way he did, and by the end he was one of my favorite characters.
> 
> But you have to admit, at the beginning he was kind of an ass.


	4. Supplemental Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth speaks to her father before bed, then runs into Seteth after a restless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I usually only have time to write when I'm working, and since I also have to actually work and some days are busier than others, I might not get around to posting again for a week or two.
> 
> Also, It's one of my headcanons that the reason Byleth dreamed of the war at the Tailtean Plains, was because Sothis' Crest Stone was present as part of the Sword of the Creator. Using that logic, even though Seiros was dead during the prologue, since her Crest Stone was still present, Rhea was able to dream about what happened preceding Byleth's return to the past. You know, in case anyone was wondering about my reasoning there.

**+-+  
Imperial Year 1180  
Harpstring Moon  
Garreg Mach  
+-+**

Despite her earlier predictions, the clandestine meeting Byleth had called did not end up lasting very long at all. After divulging her relationship with the goddess and her subsequent change in race, it had been proposed that they adjourn to allow time to process her claims before going into them with any further detail. Aware that it was no longer simply her own emotions that were running high - and having alerted the others to her two biggest concerns for the future - Byleth had been all too relieved at the prospect of once again sequestering herself in her room.

For hours after the fact, Byleth had tried to convince herself that her hasty retreat back to the dorms had nothing to do with noticing Rhea’s tells for wanting to speak to her alone.

It hadn’t worked, instead leaving her with an overwhelming sense of guilt on top of the other emotions threatening to consume her.

**+-+**

Byleth sat in the middle of her bed with her blankets scrunched up around her shoulders like an overly large cloak. She remained silent as she placidly watched her father pace the short distance from one side of her room to the other, the only sign that she might be feeling anything other than calm being the light fidgeting of her fingers as she absently worried the edge of her blanket.

Byleth had been all too aware that the others would have questions; she was only slightly surprised that it was her father who cornered her first – and that very same night, no less. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Jeralt stopped in the middle of her room and sighed. Wearily scrubbing his face with his hand, he dragged the lone chair away from the desk and turned it to face his daughter before sitting.

“So. Let me just make sure I have this straight.” Jeralt started, abruptly breaking the silence. “You’re no longer human, which makes you…?”

“Nabatean is the proper term.” Byleth paused and bit her lip before slowly admitting, “…But Divine Dragon would, _technically_ , be correct as well.”

“Right. My daughter is now a dragon.” Jeralt closed his eyes and breathed, before opening them again, brown eyes unerringly drawn to the evidence of her claims. His voice remained strong and level. “And my daughter is now a dragon, because she shares a connection with the goddess.”

“That is the simple explanation, yes.” Byleth nodded.

“And the complicated explanation?” Jeralt prodded immediately.

“She…” Byleth opened her mouth only to flounder, uncertain as to how she should proceed. Clearing her throat after a moment of thought, she started again. “I bear her crest, the Crest of Flames. This is due to carrying her Crest Stone within me.” Byleth’s hand unconsciously rose to press against her chest. “When we merged, they also became _mine_ – thus transforming me instead of simply empowering me.”

“Those dreams I’ve had since I was little - of places I’ve never been, wars I’ve never witnessed? The green-haired child?” Byleth explained. “She was – _is_ – Sothis, and those were fragments of her memories.”

“…I see.” Jeralt frowned. He was momentarily lost in thought before nodding slowly. “I suppose that’s as good an explanation as any for the dreams you would tell me about – you were never prone to having an overactive imagination, after all - but there’s another thing I don’t understand. Just what _is_ a Crest Stone? You mentioned them before during your tale, but the only Crest Stones I’ve ever heard tell of are part of the Relic Weapons.”

“That… Ah… Well, yes…” Byleth trailed off, an uncomfortable expression settling on her face. They were now touching upon topics she was certain she wasn’t supposed to share, though the fact that nobody had tried to quiet her during her big reveal made her continue however hesitantly. Even so, she glanced at the closed door and made sure to lower her voice. “Relic Weapons were created from the desecrated bodies of Nabateans, forged through dark rituals by their enemy. Bones, tendons, muscles, and ligaments make up the bodies of the weapons. The core of it’s power – the Crest Stone – is the heart.”

“The… heart.” Jeralt repeated slowly. His eyes slid down to stare where her hand was still pressing. “And you have…?”

“Yes,” Byleth nodded, hand pressing firmer into her chest. If she focused enough, she could feel the absolute font of power residing within, the magics responding eagerly under her attention. It was a particularly soothing feeling, especially with the recent memory of a cracked Stone lingering on the edges of her mind.

“How?” Jeralt questioned simply. “If you’ve been connected to the goddess since you were a child, I assume that this isn’t a new development. So how exactly did you come to have what you claim to be the goddess’ _heart_ in your chest?”

Byleth’s discomfort rose by several degrees and she pulled the blankets tighter around her. Finally, she admitted, “Mother carried the Crest Stone within her first, though she was never able to use its power or connect with Sothis as I do.”

“What-,” Both of Jeralt’s brows shot up in surprise.

“I was stillborn,” Byleth continued, her rushed words causing Jeralt’s mouth to snap shut. “I made no sound. My heart didn’t beat. Mother… Mother knew she carried Sothis’ Crest Stone, knew the power it held even if she could not access it. She made the choice to have it transplanted in me, hoping that it would be enough to give me life, despite knowing that it would end her own.”

The silence in the room after her declaration was deafening.

“You… How do you know this?” Jeralt finally found his voice, though it was audibly gruffer than usual. “Did you travel back…?”

“No.” Byleth shook her head slowly. “It was Rhea who fully explained what happened that day to me.”

“Rhea.” Jeralt immediately frowned. “Rhea told you this?”

Byleth’s gaze shot up at the distrust audible in her father’s voice, a half-remembered warning concerning Rhea drifting to the forefront of her mind. She frowned as well. “Yes, she did.”

“Are you sure you can trust what she says to be true?” Jeralt questioned.

“Yes.” Byleth’s tone hardened slightly, her words defensive. “Rhea wouldn’t lie to me. Not after…” Byleth shook her head. “I trust her word implicitly; what she told me is the truth.”

“I’m just saying I’ve known her for a while; that woman has more secrets than the entire church put together, and with each secret comes at least three lies to protect it. Not to mention the expertly crafted mask she shows the world.” Jeralt explained gruffly. “I’d be very careful about trusting her word without questioning the veracity of it.”

“You don’t understand,” Byleth shook her head, her frown turning into a light glare. While she was aware that her father – on top of being a normally suspicious person – had his reasons for distrusting Rhea, she did not like anyone attacking her wife - physically, emotionally, _or_ verbally. “My wife-,”

Byleth froze, just then realizing what she was about to divulge. Eyeing her father, Byleth wavered on whether or not she truly wanted to reveal why she placed so much faith in Rhea.

“That’s right, you did mention having a wife. Some of my happiest memories are of being married to your mother.” Jeralt’s expression immediately shifted into something entirely wistful, a half-smile transforming his face. “I’m… glad you got to experience that happiness for yourself.”

His face and voice dropped in remorse. “Though I never wished for you to find out how it feels to lose it.”

“I feel as if the most important part of myself has been torn away,” Byleth admitted honestly as she blinked rapidly before clearing her throat, steadfastly pushing away the dark memories before they could once more consume her. “I believe the only reason I had the strength of will to attempt traveling so far in the past was because I knew I would take any opportunity to save her, no matter how slim the chances of success.”

“Sometimes we fight for money, and sometimes we fight for what’s right,” Jeralt nodded, repeating the same words Byleth had heard a thousand times growing up. “But no matter what, we always fight for what’s important to us.”

“Always,” Byleth agreed with a small smile.

“So, just who is this wife of yours? Have I met her?” Jeralt’s voice was notably lighter than a moment ago, the heavy topics seemingly behind them as he attempted to change the subject.

Byleth knew better, her smile turning faint.

“You… have met her, yes,” She admitted carefully, eyes averting to stare down at her sheets. “But you were murdered before we became a couple, so you’ve never met her as my significant other.”

“She’s not one of the nuns, is she?” Jeralt asked, almost wryly, neatly sidestepping over the matter of his death. That was a conversation for another time. “Not taking after your old man?”

“Ah… Not quite,” Byleth hedged. “Though she _is_ a member of the church…” 

“Is that why you’re so quick to defend Rhea?” Jeralt asked, adding almost reluctantly, “I remember your mother was quite fond of her as well.”

“That is…” Byleth scrunched further down in her cocoon of blankets until they were drawn up to her chin. If anything, Rhea could have a dismally low self-outlook, viewing herself on more than one occasion as a failure to both her mother and her wife. That, however, was information that would stay between the two of them. “My wife…”

Byleth wanted to deflect, to change the subject. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her, however, that this was her chance to fix the things she regretted most. If she was successful, her father may very well be alive to attend her wedding this time around, and as she could not see herself marrying anyone other than Rhea…

Byleth swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She wet her lips. “Rhea _is_ my wife.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeralt cleared his throat, breaking the brief silence that had followed his daughter’s quiet statement. “I didn’t quite catch that. It sounded like you said-,”

“Rhea is my wife,” Byleth stated louder, an unintentional current of challenge in her voice – though luckily for her, her father didn’t notice. Suddenly a thought came to her and she faltered, unsure. “Or, well, she was – and hopefully will be again.”

Jeralt’s mouth opened and closed, yet no sound made it past his throat. The tension in the room increased with each aborted attempt, until finally Jeralt simply stood up and replaced his chair in its rightful place.

“Father?” Byleth asked almost timidly as she watched the large man silently make his way across the room, only pausing when he reached her door.

“Kid, just…” Jeralt sighed, hand turning the doorknob. “Just give me some time to process all of… _this_. We’ll… We’ll talk later.”

Byleth watched as her father exited her room and shut the door, not looking back once. Suddenly alone once again, Byleth could do nothing more than pull the blankets even tighter as she lay curled into a ball, fervently trying to pretend that the material surrounding her was a comforting pair of familiar arms.

**+-+**

Byleth sat at the edge of the pier after another night of restless sleep, her arms hugging her knees to her chest as the sky began to color pale blue in the predawn light. Silently she gazed down into the dark liquid. Besides the slight lapping against the sides of the pond, the perceived stillness of the water was broken only by the occasional ripple of unseen movement deep below the surface.

The faint sound of footsteps on wood alerted Byleth moments before a quiet voice broke the stillness.

“I am surprised to see you out this early.” Seteth stopped a few feet behind Byleth, gaze drifting from the faint light of false dawn coloring the sky down to the cloaked woman. “After yesterday’s… revelations.”

Byleth tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement at the words unspoken, gaze never straying from the water below. After a few minutes passed without the sound of footsteps fading away, Byleth finally spoke, voice quiet.

“It’s the best time for fishing,” Byleth murmured.

“…So I have been told,” Seteth agreed, noting that despite her words the young woman made no motion to actually fish, nor did she carry the necessary equipment to do so. “May I join you? I, too, enjoy fishing.”

He carried no equipment either.

Byleth did not respond with words, though she did incline her head ever so slightly and watch as he approached out of the corner of her eye.

“My thanks,” Seteth nodded as he moved towards the spot indicated. Hesitating a moment, he eventually lowered himself down until he was sitting cross-legged beside the quiet woman.

Byleth simply shrugged in response, gaze drifting back downwards. A sense of calm settled upon the pair, the light crashing of the manmade waterfall in the center of the pond the only sound for some time.

“Is it truly as you say?” Seteth finally broke the silence. “I apologise, but your story is…”

Byleth was still for a moment before she shifted, a tired sigh escaping her. “I don’t blame you for being sceptical,” she murmured, eyes closing. “But I wouldn’t lie about this. Not about this.”

“The very thought of Nemesis returning with an undead army is as unbelievable as it is horrifying.” Seteth frowned. “As is the thought of traveling through time. But even I can admit your knowledge of closely guarded secrets is evidence towards your claims. Not to mention Rhea’s… _visions_ would probably be a more apt term than dreams, at this point.”

Byleth simply nodded, and the two returned to their companionable silence. Eventually the faint sounds of the kitchen staff moving about and preparing for the day drifted out from the open dining hall windows behind them, though it was still too early for even the earliest risers amongst the students to be wandering about.

Byleth found the experience achingly familiar, and a small wistful smile curled the corner of her lips as she thought back to many a morning spent in just the same way.

For Seteth, it was the first time he had actually taken a moment to simply exist with the young professor without a multitude of suspicions and doubts clouding his perception of her, and he was surprised to find that he was genuinely enjoying her company. He normally spent the early morning hours in seclusion, staring unseeingly out at the water while lost in thoughts about the past. To have a veritable stranger present for those precious moments and not feel as if he were being intruded upon was… an oddly pleasant experience.

Especially since his company might be plagued with similar thoughts to his own.

“Forgive me for dredging up painful memories, but during your story you mentioned a wife,” Seteth spoke softly, carefully keeping his gaze on the water before them though noting the figure next to him stiffen out of the corner of his eyes. 

“…What of it?” Byleth asked guardedly after an uncomfortably long moment.

“I do not wish to overstep, simply… offer an ear - or a silent companion - should the need arise.” Seteth sighed, a small melancholy smile seemingly aging his youthful visage centuries in the blink of an eye. “I, too, know what it means to live with such memories of loss and regret.” He paused, then added in barely a whisper, “Especially for ones such as us.”

“I…” Byleth blinked and cleared her throat, eyes suddenly averting to stare down at her bare feet. She wiggled her toes absently even as her tone turned almost defensive. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure those memories stay memories. I won’t fail her again.”

Seteth smiled faintly, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Byleth nodded before relaxing slightly. “…Thank you.”

She realized just what it meant for Seteth to make her such an offer, especially with the current state of their non-existent relationship. It took her barely a moment to come to a decision, and she offered him a piece of advice in return.

“It won’t work, you know,” Byleth eyed her companion out of the corner of her eye. “Running and hiding? It won’t work.”

Seteth blinked in surprise. “How do-,”

“You’re first concern is keeping Flayn safe, always.” Byleth shrugged almost awkwardly. “And I admire that, really I do. But running and hiding isn’t the answer this time.”

Seteth’s mouth worked for a moment before he finally made a sound. “I take it you know, then, about…?”

“I know a great many things, and I understand why you keep the secrets you do.” Byleth smiled faintly, almost wistfully. “In another time you trusted me with them – I won’t break that trust.”

“I… see.” Seteth breathed slowly, a light note of caution audible in his voice. “I cannot say that I am entirely comfortable about that fact, nor can I pretend that I feel the same trust towards you. Though…” He trailed off for a moment, a thoughtful look settling upon his face, before continuing, “Perhaps we may have began on the wrong foot. I would be amenable to starting over, and perhaps in time…”

“I…” Byleth frowned in thought. A moment later she straightened up and turned slightly towards Seteth, her hand held out between them in greeting. “Hello, my name is Byleth Eisner. It’s nice to meet you, and I hope that one day you might consider me a friend.”

After a moment of surprise, Seteth slowly took the proffered hand and lightly shook it. “Cichol, though,” Seteth smiled faintly. “Please do call me Seteth. It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Byleth. I too hope that day comes.”

As their hands returned to their respective sides, a loud voice from the direction of the dorms sounded out. Glancing up at the pinks now staining the sky, Byleth took that as her cue to return once more to her room. Standing up, she made sure her cloak covered her completely before nodding at Seteth and turning to leave.

“One last question, if I may,” Seteth’s voice called out, stopping Byleth just as she stepped off the pier.

Acknowledging Seteth’s words, Byleth turned her head slightly though she remained facing away from him. “Yes?”

“You said that running and hiding wouldn’t work. You seemed… almost too certain of yourself for it to be merely a theory.” Seteth stood up as well, absently brushing his dark robes to dislodge any accumulated dust. “If I may ask, how did you come by this knowledge?”

Byleth was still for a moment before she sighed. She kept her voice low, aware that he would have no trouble hearing her words. “…Because it didn’t work for Indech or Macuil.”

Having said her piece, Byleth silently continued her retreat.

Alone, Seteth stared down at the water in thought, a troubled look upon his face.

**+-+**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is part one of what I took to calling Supplemental Conversations. Part two should be next, and I plan for it to involve the follow-up with Jeralt, a conversation with Flayn, and possibly some student interactions. Rhea will probably be the focus of the chapter after that. 
> 
> That being said, I have two questions if anyone wants to bother answering. My first is whether you'd prefer shorter 1k-3k chapters, or longer 4k+ (keep in mind a shorter chapter doesn't necessarily mean a faster update). My second question is if anyone has any ideas for outlandish rumors concerning Byleth's appearance change... for absolutely no reason at all. Ahem.


	5. Additional Dialogues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth runs into her father on her way back to her room; Flayn pays Byleth a visit.

**+-+  
Imperial Year 1180  
Harpstring Moon  
Garreg Mach  
+-+**

While Byleth came across a few early risers on her way back, they were only familiar in the sense that she may have nodded to them in passing once or twice. It was thus with a feeling of relief that she managed to make it to the other side of the dormitories without stumbling upon any of her students – whether they were currently in her class or not. What did give her pause, however, was the figure just starting to turn away from her closed door.

“Father?” Byleth called out in surprise, before quickly glancing around to make sure nobody else had heard her. 

Jeralt turned around at his daughter’s voice, his brown eyes silently taking in the large cloak she still wore instead of her usual attire. He waited until she had finished closing the distance before speaking. “You’re up and about early.”

“Ah,” Byleth glanced up at the pinkening sky before giving her father a slight shrug and faint smile. “I was fishing.”

Jeralt’s brow rose as he noted the lack of both fishing equipment and fish, though he did not question her further.

It took only a few moments of silence before Byleth began fidgeting slightly. Remembering how their conversation had ended the night before, and the fact that they were currently in front of her room, she bit her lip before all but blurting, “You – were you looking for me?”

Jeralt slowly nodded after a short pause. “I’ve been called out to settle a matter and will be away form Garreg Mach for a few days. I wanted to speak with you before I left.”

“Oh,” Byleth glanced at her door, then shuffled her feet. Almost cautiously, she asked, “Did you want to come inside?”

It wouldn’t be long before her students started waking up, and though Dedue wasn’t the type of neighbor to eavesdrop and gossip about other people’s business, she’d feel more comfortable speaking behind closed doors and thick walls.

Jeralt shook his head. Noticing the ensuing slump to his daughter’s shoulders, he sighed and, contrary to his earlier words, moved to open the door. He warned, “I can’t stay long.”

Byleth nodded in acknowledgment before entering ahead of her father. Removing her hood while standing awkwardly in the middle of her room, she eyed the single chair with a slight frown before moving to sit on the edge of her bed. Her fingers immediately began picking at the edge of her cloak.

Jeralt eyed the chair as well, but instead chose to stand by the closed door. He opened his mouth, closed it, then muttered under his breath too lowly for even Byleth’s enhanced hearing to catch. Finally, he heaved a great sigh and locked eyes with his visibly nervous daughter – a fact that still managed to give him pause.

“Does she make you happy?” He asked gruffly.

Byleth blinked, startled. She croaked, “What?”

“Rhea,” Jeralt elaborated, shifting slightly in discomfort. “Does she make you happy?”

“I- More than anything,” Byleth stuttered out.

Eyeing her father’s slight frown and continued silence, Byleth mulled over whether or not she should elaborate. While debating with herself, her eyes slid down to her bare finger. The slight yet comforting weight was absent, the ring she had become used to distractedly twirling no longer adorning it. Coming to an abrupt decision, she tentatively continued, “…Rhea was the one to propose to me.”

She could practically feel her father’s intense gaze, though she kept staring at her bare finger, her thumb moving to brush against its base. If she concentrated enough – delved deep enough into her memories - she could almost feel the missing band.

“It was after the war. After…” Byleth trailed off for a moment, her voice quiet. A soft smile slid across her lips as she closed her eyes and thought back to that day. “We were in the Goddess Tower, just the two of us. She told me that she wished to have me by her side, always. That she loved me.”

Byleth fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory. “She had a ring with her. It was a beautiful thing, the etched band shining a brilliant silver, while the stones were a gleaming green. She asked me if I would accept it.”

“…I’m assuming you said yes?” Jeralt prompted wryly when Byleth seemed too lost in thought to continue.

“Mm.” Byleth reluctantly pulled herself from the memory, though her soft smile remained. She once again gazed at her father. “You had left me Mother’s ring and told me to give it to the one I loved. At the time I wasn’t even sure what love felt like - most emotions were still so new to me - but you assured me that I would know when the time was right. I ended up carrying it around with me for years.”

Jeralt’s earlier frown had, by that point, faded into something more akin to grudging resignation.

“Rhea asked me in that moment if I felt the same, if I would be willing to spend the rest of our lives together,” Byleth’s smile turned fond. “After everything, I finally knew what you meant when you said that I would just _know_. I told her that I loved her too, and I offered her Mother’s ring in return.”

“After the war, after all of the pain and sorrow, after losing so many I considered dear to me…” Byleth tried to inject as much emotion, as much honesty as she could into her words. “Even now, over two centuries later, I still consider that to be one of the happiest days of my life. And I _continued_ to be happy, no matter what obstacles we faced, because from that day forward we faced them together.”

“At least until…” Byleth trailed off, her smile wavering.

As the last of Byleth’s words faded into silence, Jeralt finally closed his eyes and sighed. “…Okay.”

“Okay?” Byleth resolutely shook off the oppressive memories and gazed at her father questioningly.

Jeralt nodded with a small grunt of assent. “All I’ve ever wanted since the day your mother told me that she was pregnant with you, was for you to be safe, healthy, and happy. I’d never begrudge you the same happiness I was lucky enough to find with your mother.”

Jeralt rubbed his face wearily. “If Rhea does that for you, then… well, I’ll try to be okay with it. Just… just give your old man a little slack, okay kid? It might take a little while for me to wrap my head around.”

“Thank you.” Byleth blinked back tears, already on the brink from having delved into such emotionally charged memories. She cleared her throat, a tinge of sorrow audible in her voice. “And, well, you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t see our relationship progressing in that direction for a while… if at all.”

Taking in the saddened look on Byleth’s face, Jeralt frowned and shifted in discomfort. “What do you mean by that?” 

Byleth shrugged, a sad smile on her face. “Even without everything I’ve revealed of events yet to come, just having _this_ me be present has already changed things… who knows what the future holds now?”

“Just be yourself, kid.” Jeralt advised awkwardly after a moment. “Nothing in life worth having comes free or easy, but you’ve already done the hard part and learnt her likes and dislikes. Now you just need to show her that you care – that you’re worth taking a chance on. You got the girl once, right? Just be yourself.”

It took a few minutes, but Byleth’s expression slowly brightened. The resulting smile wasn’t big, but it was no longer steeped in sorrow. “…I will. Thank you.”

“While I’ll admit that I never dreamed I’d be giving you advice on woman, I’ll always be here if you need me, kid.” Jeralt nodded firmly. “It’s what fathers are for.”

Jeralt paused, before walking forward and engulfing his seated daughter in his arms. The hug was at an odd angle, slightly too tight, and entirely awkward – but Byleth took less than a second before her arms were raising and matching his in both strength and emotion.

After a few long minutes of neither pulling away, Jeralt finally cleared his throat and stepped back. Nodding at Byleth, he turned to leave only to pause as her cloak caught his eye once more. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Jeralt’s lips quirked up into a slight smirk. “I took care of your appearance problem. Just give it a few hours, and by midday you should be good to go out without everyone falling over in shock.”

Byleth blinked in surprise at that information. She opened her mouth to further question her father, but by that point he had already slipped away.

**+-+**

Byleth’s concentration was interrupted when a soft knock echoed throughout her room. Gazing at the door out of the corner of her eye with a frown, she stayed silent. Turning back to her desk, she continued sketching a rough draft for individual lesson plans for the rest of the year. While she may be getting ahead of herself slightly, she knew just what each of her students needed to focus on to improve themselves and didn’t see why she shouldn’t put that knowledge to good use.

The fact that it was only the second month of classes and three quarters of her students weren’t actually her students yet was simply irrelevant in her mind.

Another knock sounded, and Byleth was prepared to stubbornly wait out whoever was on the other side of her door when a familiar voice sounded out faintly through the wood.

_“Professor? It is I, Flayn. I have come to speak with you, if you are available.”_

A rueful smile slid across Byleth’s lips. Lowering her pen, she pushed her chair away from her desk and rose.

_“Of course, I do not mean to bother you - if you are otherwise occupied, I can return at a later time. Oh, I do hope that I am not bothering you.”_

Shaking her head, Byleth’s smile widened slightly as she reached the door and cracked it open. “You’re no bother at all, Flayn. Come in.”

“Oh!” Flayn jumped slightly as the door opened, before she bounced forward slightly. “Are you certain that I am not interrupting anything important?”

Byleth simply opened the door wider. 

“Wonderful!” Flayn exclaimed.

Byleth, having stood behind the door and out of sight of any onlookers, was surprised when instead of a head of green spirals, it was a figure sporting an obviously too-large cloak that accepted her invitation.

Closing the door, Byleth’s brow rose. “Are you cold?”

“What?” Flayn blinked, before shaking her head. Removing the hood of her cloak, her green spirals spilled out around her shoulders. “Oh, no – not at all. The day has actually been fairly warm for this time of year.”

“Then why the cloak?” Byleth questioned, before pointing out, “It seems rather heavy for a warm day.”

“Oh, yes, the cloak.” A pale blush painted Flayn’s cheeks as she admitted, “I borrowed it from my brother. I did not want to inconvenience you by adding to the rumors with my presence.”

Byleth frowned and shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I am sorry?” Flayn blinked and tilted her head in question. “What do I not have to do?”

“Hide.” Byleth stated simply. At Flayn’s slightly taken aback look, Byleth smiled. “I don’t care what anyone might say, Flayn. You’re always welcome to visit me. I know I might as well be a stranger to you, and I’m sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable, but I’ve always enjoyed your presence.”

“That is… If you are certain. Thank you, Professor,” Flayn finally smiled. “I must admit, that even before the events of yesterday, something about you intrigued me. I have been attempting to work up the courage to approach you for some time now.”

“I see.” Byleth cocked her head to the side, an amused smile playing across her lips. She couldn’t help but draw parallels between their first real conversation from her perspective, and their current one. She gestured for Flayn to take a seat. “You know, you can call me Byleth. Unless you’re uncomfortable, of course. In that case Professor is fine.”

“Truly?” Flayn blinked in surprise, before a blinding smile slid across her face. “I believe I will, then. Thank you, Byleth.”

Byleth’s smile widened in response.

As Flayn lowered herself daintily onto the proffered chair, Byleth silently noted to herself that she needed to procure at least one other as she moved to once more sit on the edge of her bed.

“Was there anything specific that you wanted to speak to me about?” Byleth asked curiously.

“No.” Flayn shook her head, before frowning lightly. “Well, yes, perhaps. I was simply hoping that you might enlighten me. About yourself, that is. You see, I have been quite curious about you since we first met. I had thought to myself that you possessed an air of mystery, and truly recent events have shown me that I could not have been more correct.”

Byleth nodded, having expected herself to be one of the topics that Flayn would want to cover. “Did you have any questions you would like answered?”

Flayn clasped her hands in her lap. She was silent for a moment before finally leaning forward, her eyes wide and voice filled with poorly repressed wonder. “Are you truly like me?”

Having expected to be compared to the sea, Byleth blinked. Though she really should have anticipated such a question, especially considering just how delighted Flayn was at her transformation the last time around. “I am a full-blooded Nabatean now, if that’s what you mean.”

Flayn’s eyes practically sparkled.

“That is… truly amazing” Flayn breathed. “You were not always, correct?”

“No. Well,” Byleth frowned in consideration. “…I suppose I could have been considered distantly related, on my mother’s side. Though whether or not that made me part Nabatean, or simply a slightly more powerful than average human, I couldn’t say.”

Byleth shook her head. “What I do know, is that I have borne Sothis’ Crest and Stone since the day of my birth…” Byleth paused briefly in thought, before continuing, “Twenty-one years ago, at this point in time. When she and I merged and she bequeathed me her power, they also became mine. Whatever I was before, I am now a Nabatean.”

“After our first meeting I could not help but think that something about you was familiar,” Flayn leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. “While the thought that we might be distantly related had crossed my mind, I quickly discarded that theory as highly unlikely. I eventually came to the conclusion that you reminded me most strongly of the sea.”

At Byleth’s encouraging nod, Flayn continued.

“You see, the sea is vast, and on the surface all seems still. Yet beneath that stillness, it is unfathomably deep...” Flayn sighed with a wistful smile. “Within, it teems with life, yet without, one is lucky to glimpse a fleeting shadow.” Her smile turned excited as she all but bounced in her seat, her hands motioning in emphasis. “And yet, all one must do is cast a line to grasp hold of all that life! You cannot see it at a glance, but it is there all the same.”

“I’m sorry,” Byleth cleared her throat as Flayn trailed off, the shorter girl lost in thought. She was barely able to keep her amused smile under control. “Are we still speaking of myself or have we moved onto fishing? I don’t mind if we have – I’ve always enjoyed fishing.”

“You do?” Flayn snapped out of her thoughts, a happy smile on her face. “My mother instilled in me her love of fishing from a young age, and to this day I have a great fondness for both the catching and eating of fish. I would enjoy fishing with you sometime, if you do not mind the company.”

“I already told you that you’re not a bother, and that I enjoy spending time with you,” Byleth shook her head. “I would love to go fishing with you. If ever you want to spend some time fishing together, and I’m not already at the pond, just come and find me. As long as I’m not in the middle of something important, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind, Byleth.” Flayn grinned, before her eyes suddenly widened as a thought occurred to her. Her grin faded into a pout. “Oh, bother. I got sidetracked, didn’t I? I believe I was comparing you to the sea – there was a point I was trying to make…”

Byleth shifted until her legs were drawn up to her chest. Resting one elbow atop her knee, she casually cupped her chin, her fingers moving to hide the smile she could no longer hold back. Though it was true that Flayn had matured some in the time she had known her, due in no small part to being allowed to actually socialise with people of a comparable age, she had never lost the sense of innocent wonder that she was currently exuding.

Goddess, but she had _missed_ the company of the one she called sister.

Flayn frowned for a moment as she thought back over her previous words. Remembering where she left off before getting sidetracked, she nodded decisively. “Right. During a storm, the once calm waters become mighty enough to overturn even the vastest ships. Not unlike you. You are calm – you carry yourself with poise. Yet you wield great power.”

“That is what I had concluded, though I never imagined just _how much_ power you would end up wielding.” Flayn tilted her head and studied the young woman before her. “Truly, comparing you to the boundless ocean has ended up being more accurate than I at first thought. To not only have the power of the goddess, but to also travel through _time itself_ …”

Flayn blinked and shook her head. “But I am getting sidetracked once again, my apologies. As I’ve said, I had wanted to approach you for some time now, but my brother…” Flayn’s pout made a reappearance. “He is uncertain of you. When I spoke of my desire, he referred to you as a youth of… dubious origin.”

“Oh!” Realizing what she had just said, Flayn’s eyes widened. She shook her head and waved her arms frantically. “Please do not think ill of him! He is incredibly dedicated to his work, so surely you can understand why he would have doubts about one of whom he knows so little.”

“It’s alright, I understand,” Byleth shook her head. “For someone so dedicated to keeping you safe, my lack of credentials and traceable history must have been terribly stressful. Seteth and I spoke this morning, and we’ve decided to start over. I’m hoping to eventually gain his trust, so that we might have the close relationship I _know_ we can.” Byleth stared at the other green-haired girl pointedly. “Just as I hope the same with you.”

“You and my brother have become friends?” Flayn breathed in happy surprise. “Then perhaps I truly _can_ come visit you again without having to conceal myself.”

“Flayn,” Byleth asked slowly, nonplussed. “…Did you sneak out to come here?”

“I- Well,” Flayn fidgeted slightly, eyes averting. “I did not lie to my brother, if that is what you are asking. I simply told him that I wished to go for a walk around the monastery and requested a cloak so that I would not be cold. It was only as I was passing the dormitories on my way to the fishing pond that I decided to pay you a visit.”

Byleth’s brow rose, but she ultimately accepted what Flayn said as truth. She was well aware of how the other girl felt about lying.

“You see, I have actually been considering enrolling at the academy myself. I often wander around the academy grounds to familiarize myself in preparation, though,” Flayn frowned, a sigh escaping her. Her shoulders dropped slightly in unhappiness. “My brother continues to deny my requests. I must admit that he can be a touch overprotective at times…”

Byleth studied her guest with a frown. Flayn was always so genuine and vibrant – it pained her to see the girl acting so dejected. A thought came to her, and she mulled over it for a long moment before finally deciding that speaking her mind in that instance was worth the potential problem it might cause with Seteth.

“You know,” Byleth started slowly. “In the future I came from, you did end up enrolling in the academy. This year, to be precise.”

“Truly? You are not simply saying what it is you believe I wish to hear?” Flayn almost stuttered in surprise as she stared at the other woman in awe. “My brother allows me to enroll?”

“I would never lie to you, Flayn. I might leave out information that is not mine to share or tell you that I am unable to divulge something – but I would never knowingly lie.” Byleth assured. “And yes, there was a-,”

“Hm,” Byleth stopped and frowned, muttering to herself. “I forgot to mention that, didn’t I?”

“Mention what, Byleth?” Flayn questioned, still quite touched at the other’s promise.

“Ah,” Byleth blinked and cleared her throat before awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry. There was an incident a few months from now, and you were kidnapped. Seteth became worried when he couldn’t find you and requested my help. My students and I managed to find you soon after, and thankfully you were unharmed - if still weak from what they used to subdue you.”

Flayn listened attentively with a growing frown.

“Seteth at first wanted to hide you away so that nothing of the sort could happen again,” Byleth said, watching as Flayn’s frown turned into a stubborn scowl at the thought. “But you and I managed to convince him that the safest place for you to be was not only here at the monastery, but in my class. That way I could not only help to protect you, but also teach you how to better protect yourself.”

“I became part of your class?” Flayn questioned in amazement, mind immediately narrowing in on that fact. 

“Yes, you did,” Byleth smiled proudly. “And not only did you do very well in both the written and practical portions, but you made many lasting friendships as well.”

Flayn stood up abruptly, her awed smile melting into something much more determined. “We must speak to my brother at once.”

Byleth was surprised at the abruptness of the other girl’s statement, though she nodded and lowered her legs before standing up. “Yes, I suppose we should inform him about the upcoming kidnapping so that we can work to avoid it.”

“Well, yes, that as well,” Flayn agreed distractedly as she walked towards the door. “But more importantly, we must tell my brother that I am to join your class.”

**+-+**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had time today and sat down and wrote this. Can you tell that I adore Flayn? I didn't mean to let her take over the chapter, honest. It just happened. And yes, I incorporated her C-Support with Byleth... I like her supports. And referenced Byleth/Rhea's S-Support which wasn't originally part of the plan, but Byleth wanted to gush.
> 
> I guess next chapter we'll get to see what's up with those rumors, maybe run into a few students. We'll also find out how Jeralt spent the night processing. That being said, I'll still be accepting rumors if anyone has any.


	6. One Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors abound; Byleth decides to stop hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my morning started with digging my suv out of the snow, going to get a giant qtip shoved up my nose, then returning home to see that my sister's dog tore apart the garbage I forgot to put outside. The rest of my day was spent destroying a bag of chocolate and writing this. 
> 
> I gift to you a freshly written chapter in the hopes that your Bunny Day ends better than mine started.

**+-+  
Imperial Year 1180  
Harpstring Moon  
Garreg Mach  
+-+**

“My deepest apologies for wasting your time, Byleth.” Flayn said with a frown. Hands clasped in front of her, she bowed slightly in genuine remorse. “I was unaware that my brother would be in meetings for the remainder of the day.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Byleth waved off Flayn’s apology. “I’m only sorry that we didn’t get the chance to settle this matter right away - I know how much becoming a student means to you.”

“As am I, which is why I shall be awaiting my brother here in his office,” Flayn stated determinedly. “No matter when his meetings conclude, he shall surely come here afterwards.”

Spying the mess of papers and writing utensils left haphazardly atop Seteth’s usually pristine desk, Byleth silently concluded that the other girl was most likely correct in her assumption.

“Oh!” Flayn exclaimed, eyes wide. She emphatically waved her hands in front of her. “But I cannot ask you to waste the remainder of your day waiting with me when I know that you must have other matters to attend to. I shall speak to my brother alone - though he may wish to seek you out for further clarification afterwards.”

“Are you sure?” Byleth asked. All she had waiting for her were the half-finished drafts on her desk – which, if she were being honest, weren’t actually a pressing matter at the moment. Perhaps she would normally be busy, but since she had yet to resume her teaching duties, her schedule was oddly free. “I don’t mind waiting with you.”

“Oh no, I really must insist,” Flayn said firmly. “I could not possibly take up anymore of your time than I already have. I shall be quite fine waiting on my own.” As if to emphasize her point, Flayn moved to grab a book from one of Seteth’s shelves before situating herself comfortably on one of the couches.

“Alright then,” Byleth shrugged, acquiescing. “But if you need me please don’t hesitate to come find me. You really wouldn’t be a bother,” she reiterated, wanting to cement that fact in the other’s mind.

“I shall keep that in mind, thank you.” Flayn nodded. “I bid you a wonderful afternoon, Byleth.”

“And you as well.” Byleth quirked a small smile before leaving the office. 

Making sure that her hood covered her hair and other features from prying eyes, Byleth started back down the hall, intent on once more returning to her room. On her way to the stairs, however, she couldn’t help but glance into the audience chamber – a habit stemming from her first time as a professor. It was perhaps a mistake, as her eyes unerringly found their way to her wife, the archbishop resplendent in her formal robes at the head of the chamber.

Byleth stopped - suddenly frozen - as she watched Rhea speak to the monk in front of her, her sensitive ears just faintly able to register the soft cadence of her wife’s voice. A beam of sunlight colorfully shaded by the stained-glass windows fell upon one side of Rhea’s head, causing what was visible of her long green hair to almost shimmer. The phantom sensation of running her hands through those soft locks caused Byleth’s fingers to twitch, and she almost reluctantly moved her gaze elsewhere.

Though Rhea was at the opposite end of the audience chamber, Byleth could easily make out the small yet gentle smile on her face. It was a genuine smile, not one of the masks that Byleth had come to recognize with ease, and a tenseness she hadn’t even been aware of drained from her shoulders. An unconscious smile playing upon her own lips, Byleth’s gaze moved slightly upwards and settled upon green jewels.

A quiet gasp escaped her as her eyes widened in surprise.

Sometime during her inspection of the other woman, Rhea had glanced up, her gaze somehow connecting with Byleth’s despite the distance. Logically, Byleth knew that it was impossible – her hood should be covering her head in such a way that Rhea simply _couldn’t_ be looking into her eyes – and yet her heart disagreed with her, logic having no sway when she could _feel_ the connection.

Byleth wasn’t certain how long she stood frozen there, but when it looked like Rhea was about to move in her direction, she could feel her nerves soar as a mix of apprehension and anticipation all but consumed her.

A knight chose that moment to walk in front of Byleth on his way into the audience chamber, unintentionally breaking the charged gaze for just a moment.

A moment was all that was needed.

Swallowing thickly, Byleth stumbled backwards as if she were a puppet whose strings had just been cut, her gaze immediately averting as she swiftly ducked out of view.

She practically flew down the stairs. 

Exiting on the first floor and feeling very much like a coward, Byleth made the split-second decision to turn towards the academy courtyard in the hopes that most students would still be enjoying their midday meals. It was only as she made it to the courtyard proper that she finally slowed, eventually coming to a stop next to an empty bench with a conflicted look upon her face. Wavering for just a moment, she ultimately sat down, the bench giving her an excellent view of the building she had just vacated.

It was perhaps a childish thought, but she couldn’t help but wait and see if Rhea actually would follow. 

She knew that the chances were so slim to be practically non-existent – not only was this not _her_ Rhea, but the archbishop of any timeline was a very busy woman. Byleth wasn’t even sure what she’d say or do if Rhea _had_ decided to follow her, her emotions still roiling inside of her like a tangled ball of yarn tossed carelessly down a flight of stairs. And yet, she couldn’t deny the creeping sense of disappointment that began overtaking her as the minutes passed and a head of green failed to turn the corner.

Sighing at her foolishness, Byleth stood up and continued towards the dorms.

Twice she couldn’t help but look back.

Twice she was met with a renewed sense of disappointment tinged with cowardly shame.

**+-+**

Byleth had managed to make it most of the way without trouble, her lowered head and unseen frown perhaps unconsciously helping her by exuding an air of unapproachableness. It was just as she was passing the stairs to the sauna, the door to her room in sight, that her luck ran out.

“Is that you, Professor?”

Blinking out of her self-deprecating thoughts, Byleth looked up in surprise. A mistake on her part, as Manuela took her reaction as confirmation of her suspicions and moved closer.

“I _thought_ it was you under that drab cloak, Professor. Nobody around here exudes quite the same aura of seriousness that you do without even trying.” Manuela said, not giving Byleth time to deny her identity. “Are you quite alright? Some of the rumors I’ve heard floating around today have had me quite worried.”

Byleth’s startled look faded into a confused frown. That was the second time she’d heard talk about rumors, and yet still she had no idea what they entailed besides herself apparently being the focus.

Was that what her father meant by having taken care of things? If so, she was confused as to how exactly these apparently worrisome rumors were supposed to help her. It seemed, to her at least, that the rumors would do more harm than good - and she wouldn’t be surprised if they ultimately ended up exacerbating the situation.

“Don’t get me wrong - Hanneman and I have no problem taking care of your class while you recuperate, dear,” Manuela said while leaning in closer in an attempt to peer into her hood. 

Byleth leaned back slightly, though it ultimately wasn’t enough as Manuela’s eyes widened.

“Well now, I see that at least _part_ of the rumors on everybody’s lips are true. That is _quite_ the drastic change in appearance you’ve gone through, Professor.” Manuela frowned, even as her gaze took in the pale green hair and bright green eyes with intrigue. “You really should come to my office and let me do a physical. To make sure that there is nothing wrong with your health, you understand.”

Byleth knew that eventually she would have no choice but to let Manuela look her over. At that very moment, however, having to come up with an explanation for the changes in her biology to tell the other woman hovered near the top of her list of things she did not want to deal with.

“That’s… unnecessary. I’m fine, really.” Byleth shook her head. “There’s no need to trouble yourself.”

“I really must insist, Professor,” Manuela asserted. “It’s my duty as the academy’s head physician to keep on top of both the students and faculty in matters of health, and this is a drastic enough change to warrant further examination.”

“I… I don’t,” Byleth cast her gaze around almost desperately for a way to escape the situation she found herself in without completely brushing the other woman off. It was perhaps divine luck that her searching eyes alit on Lysithea in that moment, the young woman standing in front of Byleth’s closed door with a troubled frown twisting her face.

It took her less than a second to come to a decision as to whose questions she’d rather deal with at the moment.

“I really am sorry, Manuela - but I don’t have time right now. Lysithea is waiting for me, and I don’t want to leave her in distress for longer than I have to.” Byleth bowed out of the conversation, tone apologetic. “Another time, perhaps?”

Manuela’s eyes narrowed as they bounced from Byleth’s retreating form to the visibly distraught student in question. Finally, she nodded, though warned loudly enough for Byleth to hear, “I’ll be holding you to that, Professor. If you don’t come to me yourself, I _will_ track you down.”

Byleth gave one last nod and hidden grimace as indication that she understood, before walking towards her unaware accomplice.

“Lysithea?” Byleth asked as she walked up behind the young woman.

“Professor!” Lysithea jumped and twirled around, eyes wide with surprise. She took barely a moment to glance at the cloak obscuring the older woman’s appearance before blurting, “Should you really be out of bed in your state?”

“I’m sorry?” Byleth tilted her head in confusion as she eyed her worried student “My state?”

“Forgive me for being so bold, but,” Lysithea continued, worried voice turning stern. “I realize that you are used to doing things by yourself, Professor, but you really must be mindful of the effect it will have on your health. Asking for aid while in such a state is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Byleth blinked, utterly lost and feeling as if she wasn’t privy to a good chunk of the current conversation despite being the only other participant. Shaking her head, she moved passed Lysithea and opened her door before gesturing in invitation. 

“Maybe we should continue this conversation inside,” Byleth offered.

“Yes, you really should be resting,” Lysithea nodded firmly as she entered the room. She took a moment to glance around in curiosity before turning her attention back to the Black Eagles’ professor.

Byleth closed the door behind her. “Now, if you don’t mind starting at the beginning, could you please explain to me just _why_ you’re so concerned about my health?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” It was Lysithea’s turn to look at Byleth in confusion. “I didn’t mean to pry into your personal business, Professor, but _everyone_ was talking about it in the library earlier. I simply had to check on you myself to be certain that you were alright.” 

Byleth, realizing that she was probably talking about one of the supposed rumors floating about, sighed. “Would you mind telling me just what it was you heard?”

“Certainly,” Lysithea blinked. “Everyone was talking about how you had been experimented on as a child, and that the Crest you’ve been hiding suddenly went out of control and left you physically changed.” Worry creeped once more into Lysithea’s voice. “Not to mention deathly ill.”

Byleth blinked slowly in surprise as everything suddenly made an alarming amount of sense. _Of course_ that rumor in particular would garner Lysithea’s concerned attention – it was practically tailored to tug at the younger woman’s heartstrings.

“Lysithea,” Byleth started to explain, voice kind. “That was just a baseless rumor. I’m not ill, nor was I experimented on as a child. I'm perfectly healthy - in fact, you could consider what happened to me a blessing of sorts.”

“You say that, Professor,” Lysithea said stubbornly with a pointed frown. “And yet you continue to cover your head and face.”

Byleth eyed the stubborn set to the younger woman’s shoulders for a long moment before her own shoulders slumped in resignation. Knowing she had to reveal herself sometime, she reached up and pulled her hood down, her pale green hair spilling freely around her shoulders. She blinked green eyes slowly as Lysithea stared back at her in shock.

“I- You-,” Lysithea stuttered, eyes wide.

“Not what you expected?” Byleth asked despite already knowing the answer.

Lysithea blinked owlishly as her gaze jumped back and forth from the green hair to the green eyes before her. “I- No. I was expecting a loss of pigment, like-,” She cut herself off abruptly.

“Like yours?” Byleth continued for her gently.

Lysithea remained silent, a pained look sliding across her face.

“I’m not going to pry, Lysithea,” Byleth assured, the younger woman looking visibly relieved at her words. “And thank you for worrying about me. I know we haven’t had much time to talk since I started teaching, but from what I’ve observed you are a very studious and determined young woman – both qualities I find to be admirable.”

Lysithea’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You think me studious and determined?” Her eyes widened further as the remainder of Byleth’s words registered. “You _admire_ me?”

“I do,” Byleth nodded in confirmation, and watched as an almost shy smile bloomed on Lysithea’s face at her words. “And I wanted to let you know that you can always come speak to me - even if you’re not in my class.”

“I…” Lysithea trailed off, her smile disappearing as she once again looked visibly unsure.

“You don’t have to say anything if it makes you uncomfortable.” Byleth shook her head, voice earnest. She had been unable to do as much as she’d wanted for the young woman in the previous timeline before her unfortunate demise, and so was determined to right those wrongs with this new chance she’d been given. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll always be here if you need someone to talk to – about anything – and that whatever we speak of will remain between the two of us.”

Lysithea remained silent for a long moment. Finally, she said in a small voice, “…Thank you, Professor. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Byleth simply smiled in response and was gratified to receive a small one in return.

“Just-,” Lysithea shifted nervously. “You are absolutely certain that these changes aren’t causing you any harm? No discomfort at all?”

“I’m positive,” Byleth assured. “In fact, I’ve never felt better.” In that timeline, at least – but that was a thought she kept to herself.

“Okay.” Lysithea nodded decisively after a moment of scrutinizing Byleth’s expression. “I am happy to hear that, Professor. Thank you for taking the time to alleviate my concerns.”

The hourly bell chose that moment to ring out, the loud sound drifting in through one of the open windows.

Lysithea’s eyes widened. “Oh! Apologies, Professor, but I left my books in the library and need to fetch them before class. If I don’t leave now, I’ll almost certainly be late.”

“See? Studious and determined,” Byleth’s smile only widened as a faint blush stained the pale skin of Lysithea’s cheeks a rosy hue. “Don’t let me keep you.”

With a flustered nod, Lysithea all but scurried from the room.

**+-+**

Bolstered by Lysithea’s easy acceptance, Byleth decided that it was perhaps passed due for her to tackle at least one of the issues that she was cowardly avoiding. And while she still couldn’t quite bring herself to seek out Rhea – especially after the embarrassment of actually _fleeing_ earlier – she decided that it was high time she stop hiding from her students. While it was too late in the day to return to teaching, she could at the very least venture out into the monastery without her cloak and allow others the chance to acclimatize themselves to her changes.

She was determined to resume her duties as professor in the morning, and so told herself that she could not put it off any longer.

To that end, Byleth determinedly left her cloak atop her bed and swiftly left the room before she could change her mind. The afternoon classes were still in session, thankfully, so while she turned more than a few heads on her walk - and her ears picked up a truly startling amount of whispered theories as to her visible changes - nobody actually stopped her, and for that she was grateful. 

Stepping off the grass at the edge of the dormitories, she hesitated slightly as her gaze bounced between the greenhouse and the fishing pond. While she found both gardening and fishing to be soothing pastimes, she ultimately decided that a spot of fishing was just the thing to help settle her nerves. Picking up her usual rod from the storage shed, she stopped long enough to speak to the fishkeeper and acquire some bait before moving on. 

Byleth’s foot had just set down on the beginning of the wooden pier when she looked up and paused, noticing for the first time that she was not alone. In that moment she almost turned back in a panic, though she ultimately managed to snap herself out of it. Silently scolding herself, her shoulders stiffened as she resolutely marched forward until she came to a stop beside Alois at the end of the pier.

Wavering once more as she remained unnoticed, Byleth chided herself that enough was enough and inhaled deeply. 

“Good afternoon, Alois.” Frowning as her words came out somewhat stilted, Byleth tried again. Thankfully, her second attempt came out much more natural sounding than her first. “How are the fish today?”

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Alois nodded distractedly in greeting, his focus remaining fixated on the fish he was attempting to reel in. “Not too well, I’m afraid. I’ve been here what seems like _hours_ and this is my first bite.”

“Hm,” Byleth hummed in commiseration as she prepared her own line. “That’s unfortunate.”

Alois grunted in agreement as he pulled on the rod, the tip of the wood bowing under the pressure as he vigorously worked the reel. The fish was pulled closer to the surface at his continued efforts, the large splashes indicating just how much his quarry was struggling. A hint of gleaming golden scales shimmered in the sun before Alois jumped, his head swiveling to the side as it finally registered just who he was speaking to. 

“Professor!” Alois yelped in shock. His grip unintentionally loosened allowing the rod to be swiftly pulled from his hands.

Byleth and Alois stood silently side by side at the edge of the pier and watched as his rod was swiftly dragged out of reach and towards the middle of the pond. The weathered wood bobbed once, twice, before being pulled under. Moments passed as the ripples faded, until there was no sign that Alois’ rod or fish had ever existed.

“Oh, bother,” Alois sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Just my luck that the one time I actually get a bite, the fish ends up reeling in my rod instead of the other way around.”

“I’m sorry,” Byleth cleared her throat in an attempt to hide her amusement at the knight’s legendary fishing skills. Her voice was carefully level when she continued, “I didn’t mean to distract you.”

Alois chuckled and waved away her apology. “It’s no problem at all, Professor. I was in need of a new rod anyways. That one was getting rather worn.”

“More importantly,” Alois frowned and turned towards the smaller woman. “I should be the one apologising to you.”

“Oh?” Byleth blinked in surprise. “What for?”

Alois’ expression matched his voice in contriteness. “You see, when your father sought me out last night and invited me for a few drinks like old times, I never could have imagined the tale he’d tell me of what happened to you as a child.”

Byleth’s surprise melted into the same type of resigned yet morbid curiosity one feels when watching a disaster about to hit, yet not being able to do anything to avert it.

“My reaction may have been a bit loud, you see, and I believe one or two people may have overheard me,” Alois admitted. “Why, by the time I awoke this morning and shook off the lingering effects of the night before, the rumors circulating around had already gotten a tad out of hand.”

“My father…” A hand rose to rub at Byleth’s forehead as she sighed. “What, exactly, did my father tell you?”

“Why, Jeralt told me that you were actually Sitri’s daughter we all thought lost in the fire twenty-one years ago.” Alois blinked innocently. “He explained that the reason he hid your continued existence and left Garreg Mach all those years ago was because he discovered that there was an assassin among the clergy with an unhealthy fixation on you.”

Byleth’s brow twitched and she closed her eyes. She breathed deeply, reminding herself that it was just a tale her father made up. The fact that it sounded suspiciously close to what she had read in his diary all those years ago was simply a _coincidence_.

Though perhaps she should have another talk with her father, maybe fill him in on some of her happier memories. The fact that those memories would paint Rhea in a favorable light would _also_ be simply a coincidence.

“He didn’t say, though I figured that the assassin was someone who felt scorned by the fact that your mother chose to marry your father,” Alois explained his theory. “But to fixate on you when you had done no wrong is utterly abhorrent. It’s simply awful that you had to be cursed as a child to hide your true appearance from their dastardly gaze.”

Byleth opened her eyes and gazed nonplussed at Alois’ genuinely forlorn expression. She opened and closed her mouth, speechless.

“I… don’t know what to say…” Byleth finally found her voice, though it was faint. “My father really told you that?”

“Oh yes,” Alois nodded before sighing in relief as he eyed the shimmering green hair and eyes before him. “I’m just glad that being at the monastery brought you under the goddess’ gaze once more, and that her blessing was able to dispel the curse.”

Byleth nodded blankly, voice strangled. “…So am I.”

“You know, being your father’s squire meant that I had the honor of meeting you mother a few times,” Alois rubbed his chin as he reminisced. “From what I can recall, Sitri was truly a kind and wonderful woman – if rather frail.” His gaze turned lightly scrutinizing as he eyed Byleth once more. “Hmm, it really is quite astonishing just how much you resemble her, now that I think about it.”

“Why, if you had looked like this back when we first met, I might have thought I was looking at a ghost!” Alois chuckled heartily.

Byleth could only nod silently as she glanced down into the pond. Her mother’s image stared back at her for a moment before she blinked and the reflection staring back at her becoming own. While she had never had the pleasure of meeting her mother, she did recall encountering her perfectly preserved body currently peacefully entombed in Abyss. She could understand why Alois would think such a thing - the resemblance _was_ rather obvious.

“Ah, but I believe I’ve rambled off topic.” Alois sighed ruefully. “As I was saying, I wanted to apologise for any rumors that may have been started due to my inattention. To think that I would unintentionally cause my little sister such trouble is simply appalling.”

Byleth sighed, a small indulgent smile on her face as she looked at her self-proclaimed big brother out of the corner of her eye. She highly doubted that Alois deserved all of the blame for the outlandish rumors circling the monastery, and she was honestly convinced that he was set up by her father in the first place. She was aware, however, that trying to talk him out of any self-blame would be an exercise in futility - and so decided to try a different tactic. 

“While it’s true that these rumors floating around _have_ been rather bothersome,” Byleth started conversationally. “I suppose I might be convinced to consider forgiving an involved party should they keep me company while I fish.”

Seeing Alois perk up out of the corner of her eye, Byleth’s smile widened. “And my forgiveness is all but guaranteed if they should pick up a rod and fish _with_ me instead of merely watching.”

“I can keep you company, Professor. I’ve still got a few good hours of fishing left in me,” Alois declared determinedly, before pausing. Looking down at his empty hands, he sheepishly pointed at the fishkeeper behind them with his thumb. “Just, ah, give me one moment to purchase another rod.”

Byleth shook her head with a smile.

**+-+**

Byleth stood at her desk in front of her empty classroom, the morning early enough that she was the first to arrive. She absently parsed through the notes Manuela and Hanneman had left her, her focus taken up by the butterflies currently fluttering in her stomach. She not only had to prepare for the multitude of questions sure to be flung her way, but also to see so many cherished faces once more.

And she had to do it while keeping herself together.

Claude poked his head into the classroom. Noticing that the only occupant was the professor, and that she had a distinctly worried look on her face, he called out a greeting. “Hey Teach! You’re looking a little green today – haven’t been getting enough sun?”

Byleth looked up, startled, as she took in the easy smile on Claude’s face. 

“Claude.” Her lips twitched in an almost smile, though she was able to keep her face carefully neutral, her breathing exercises momentarily forgotten. _That_ was a rumor she’d heard the night before. “Can I presume that I have you to thank for being the star of Garreg Mach’s rumor mill?”

“Me? Gossip about everyone’s favorite mysterious professor?” Claude pointed to himself, expression playfully aghast. “Perish the thought, Teach. I’m wounded that you’d accuse me of such a thing.”

Claude clutched his heart in mock pain, causing Byleth to raise a brow in blatant scepticism.

“On a _completely_ unrelated note,” Claude continued, his tone of voice indicating that it wasn’t unrelated at all. “Did you hear the one about your hair and eyes turning green because of the algae in the fishing pond? Someone – and I’m not sure who – swears that they’ve seen you swimming around looking for fish after everyone else has gone to bed.”

Claude held a hand up to his mouth, as if he were telling a secret, and whispered, “That one’s my favorite.”

Byleth couldn’t keep an amused smile from breaking through her unimpressed façade as she let out a light laugh.

“So she _can_ laugh!” Claude exclaimed with a grin. “I think that’s the biggest reaction I’ve seen you make since your daring rescue of us House leaders a month ago.”

Byleth shook her head in amused exasperation. “Is there something I can do for you, Claude?” Her brow rose. “You know, if you’re looking to switch classes, I can get the paperwork for you to fill out.”

“The leader of the Golden Dear jumping ship and joining the Black Eagles? How scandalous, Teach.” Claude’s eyebrows rose as he held a hand to his chest in shock, though the grin still playing across his lips ruined the image he was trying to cultivate. “What would the others think? Other than the fact that I’m definitely your favorite, of course.”

“You know,” Byleth started wryly. “Somehow you don’t strike me as the type to care what others think.”

Claude laughed.

“I have absolutely no idea what would have given you that impression. Why, I’ll have you know that I am very concerned about the opinion of others,” Claude abandoned his grin and affixed Byleth with a serious stare. “Like, do they like me for me, or is it just my winning personality and dashing good looks that they want? Those thoughts positively plague me night after night, Teach.”

“I’m sure,” Byleth snorted.

Grin once more at home on his face, Claude started backing up. “Well, now that I’ve ascertained that you’re not about to keel over from being caught up in one of Annette’s experiments – _and_ that I’m your favorite – I should get to class myself.” He turned around as he neared the door and threw her a wink and a half wave over his shoulder. “Be seeing you, Teach.”

Byleth couldn’t do anything but shake her head in amusement. She had almost forgotten just what a character Claude could be, what with the last time she had seen him having been the day the war broke out. She would never forget the aid his letter had given them, though – the tactics and marked safe routes invaluable to their having won with so few casualties. This time around she was hoping to subvert his fate, just as she had planned for many others.

As the first of her students began to trickle in, Byleth absently realized that the butterflies had settled.

**+-+**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank the length of this chapter - and the rumors - to MakaS0ul, steppedknees, and unquenchable_flame. I was inspired.
> 
> I'm pretty sure the next chapter focuses on Byleth and Rhea actually interacting, though I'm sure more than one of you might be surprised at how I go about it - I just couldn't help myself (but it's not what you think). I mean, it's not written yet, but I'm pretty sure I've gotten to that point.

**Author's Note:**

> I may go back and make small changes and corrections as the story develops, such as specifying the day of the month.


End file.
